Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
by eris.stormborn
Summary: Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. So get up on your feet, wipe the dirt off, and keep going. I'm not giving up on you any time soon. Modern AU. GendryxArya.
1. Northern Girl

**A/N: Hi there! If you don't know me, I'm Eris. I've found that stories pulled from their own times and put in modern ones get really weird and cheesy really fast. So I figured I'd give it a shot. If you like it, review. If you don't, review twice. I've never tried something that's so dependent on it's time in a modern setting, so I'd love any and all feedback you may have. Oh, right, it's rated M for a reason. There's going to be swearing and topics that may offend some of you. Also, I own nothing. Obviously. Enough of this. Enjoy!**

Gendry had never been as sore and exhausted as he was getting out of bed that morning. Every minuscule movement made him wince in agony. With tremendous effort, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat upright, bringing a calloused hand up to massage his aching shoulder. He was in the prime of his youth, not even at the legal age of adulthood, and yet he felt more ancient and decrepit than the old beggar men in the streets outside his flat.

_Good for you my arse._

Gendry cursed as he rose to his feet, his muscles screaming in protest all the while. They screamed for rest and recovery, but Gendry had no choice except to deny them even that. Tentatively, he rolled his shoulders back and lifted a foot, flexing it slightly. His calf was tense and knotted, and sent a searing pain up his leg that nearly caused Gendry to fall back to the bed. Just before he fell, Gendry caught the splintered wood of his windowsill and steadied himself, kicking over his lamp in the process.

Gendry swore again. This was not his morning, but at least the universe had spared him the hassle of cleaning up the glass shards from a broken lamp. Crouching down and cursing the pain in his thighs, he retrieved the lamp and placed it back on the rickety nightstand by his bed. The sun was just starting to rise, causing pale light to filter in through the dirty window. With a grimace, Gendry yanked the rough black curtain across the window, blocking it all out.

"Oh, you're up. Good."

Gendry spun on his heels, turning to face his now open door. He only grunted in response to the girl before him. Her curly black hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head and her tired blue eyes were obscured by thick rings of black makeup. Gendry squinted against the light of the hallway and looked her over. Under her black rain jacket, he could see the white fabric of her work uniform.

"You _stink_, Gen. I'm off to work. Don't leave 'til Mrs. Marino gets here. Make the lunches, all that shit... And take a shower."

Gendry only grunted again, too exhausted to speak. The girl hesitated in his doorway for another moment before she turned and walked down the hall, leaving his door hanging open. When Gendry heard the soft click of the front door being locked, he stepped carefully out of his room and into the short hallway. He made his way down to the end, surprisingly light on his feet. He walked with purpose, avoiding the floor boards he knew would creak while still taking the least amount of time possible. At the end of the hallway he turned to the left and gently laid a hand on the chipping paint of a door. Slowly, carefully, he pushed the door in just enough to look inside.

And there they all were, snoring softly and oblivious to the world. The flat they lived in was small, made for one or two people at most, but they managed to live with six. Everything was tight, but this room was especially so. There was only one window in the room, and the rest of the peeling white walls were left bare. On the wall under the window there was a small bed, barely long enough to contain the growing teenage boy sleeping on it. Not two feet away from that bed was a set of bunk beds, which were possibly the only stable piece of furniture in the entire flat. On the wall opposite the single bed was a simple wooden crib, now too small and worn for the child curled up inside.

Gendry sighed and retreated from the room, pulling the door shut once again. He couldn't bear to dwell on it, not that morning. So instead, he turned and danced back down the hallway to the bathroom, stripped down, and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. He stepped in and flinched at the burning water, but did not adjust the temperature. The burning was better than the aching, and maybe it would soothe his worn muscles. Gendry closed his eyes and let the water roll down his face while he lathered his hair and body with soap. He rinsed off, wishing he could rinse his pain off as easily.

With a sigh, Gendry shut the shower off and stepped out, grabbed a towel, and quickly buried his face into the rough white fabric. After rubbing his hair and patting down his body briefly, Gendry wrapped the towel around his hips, securing it by tucking one end in. He positioned himself squarely in front of the foggy mirror. He placed one hand on the cracking porcelain sink, and with the other he wiped the condensation off of the rectangular glass. He surveyed himself carefully, bringing one hand up to touch the bruise along the left side of his jaw. He winced at the tenderness and the memory of the fist that left it there. He flattened his hand out and rubbed his cheek, feeling the scruff that was growing there, and briefly considered shaving.

_Fuck it._

He turned away from the mirror, walking only a step before he could pull the bathroom door open. He stepped out, meeting a wall of cool air that sent a shiver through his body and raised goosebumps along his tanned skin. The mornings were always cool in the poorly insulated flat, but the nights were worse. Gendry made his way into his room and closed the door behind him before he let the towel drop to the floor. He could at least have the small freedom of being naked in his own room, if only for a moment. Welcoming the cool air that rushed over his naked body and jolted him awake, Gendry made his way to the small chest of drawers where his clothes were haphazardly thrown. He yanked open the top drawer and extracted a wrinkled pair of deep blue boxers. He shook them out and stepped into them, then pulled them up so the waistband rested comfortably on his hips.

"Gen?"

_Dammit._

"Just a minute, getting dressed. Anyone bleeding?"

Gendry pulled open another drawer and pulled out a pair of black sweatpants. He stepped into them and yanked them up, jumping to free the bottoms from entrapment under the soles of his feet.

"No."

"Alright, then give me a minute."

Gendry pulled a grey tee shirt out of a pile of clothes on the cold wood floor and made his way to the door, pulling it open.

"What's the matter? You don't need to be up yet."

"I had a bad dream."

"Again? Was it the bad guy again?"

Gendy knelt down in front of the boy, who was only six and small for his age. His curly black hair was unkempt and tousled from sleep, and in dire need of a trim. His blue eyes were wide as saucers against his little pale face. He nodded slightly, his mop of curly hair bobbing as he did.

"Ok. Go on and watch Blue Peter or whatever's on this early."

"Gen?"

"Mm?"

Gendry stood back up, towering over the tiny boy, who looked up at him with his big blue eyes.

"You wouldn't let a bad guy get me, would you?"

"Never, little guy. Now go on."

The boy smiled up at Gendry before he turned and ran off. A moment later, Gendry could hear the soft noises of childrens shows and he sighed in relief. Nightmares had been keeping more than the boy up, in truth. But Gendry couldn't tell him that. Gendry had to be the strong one, the responsible one, always.

Gendry took a breath and pulled the shirt over his head as he made his way down the hall and past the living room. He reached the kitchen and his toes involuntarily curled under at the touch of the icy tiles of the floor. He grimaced and made his way to the cabinet, pulling it open. He slipped into his usual routine, letting his mind go blank as he poured three bowls of dry cereal, made three peanut butter and jelly sanwhiches, and labeled three brown paper bags.

When he was done, the sunlight was streaming in through the window in the kitchen, making Gendry's head throb. He put a sandwhich in the last bag and turned to look at the boy sitting on the patched brown couch watching Blue Peter. Gendry smiled sadly and cursed his father. He hadn't even bothered to give them a name when he dropped the twins off. Mya had named the boy Robin, and Bella had named the girl Jonquil, after some silly fairy tale she had heard in school. Bella had been so innocent and sweet in her youth, or so Mya said. Gendry refused to believe it.

Gendry glanced at the clock and took a breath. "Robin, go brush your teeth and comb your hair. I'm going to get Quil and Ed up."

The boy tore his eyes away from the screen and gave Gendry a heart wrenching smile before he sprung to his feet and bounded off to the bathroom. Gendry grinned and shook his head before he walked carefully down the hall to the kids' bedroom. He hesitated, seeing Edric already awake.

"Morning, Gen."

"You're up early."

"Rob woke me."

"Go eat breakfast, Ed."

Edric was short for his age of fourteen, with a smooth round face that still had baby fat clinging to it. His black hair hung to his shoulders in neat curls, with the tips of his ears poking out from the locks. He was already dressed for the day in worn blue jeans and a green sweat shirt, with scuffed trainers on his feet. Edric nodded and moved around Gendry to the door before disappearing from sight.

Gendry took a breath and moved as quietly as he could over to the bunk bed, where he knelt beside the bottom bunk. Jonquil was sound asleep, her long black hair spread out behind her head in messy curls. Gendry placed a hand on her tiny shoulder and shook her lightly. Immediately, the girl's bright blue eyes flew open and a smile spread across her face.

"Good morning, Gen!"

Gendry flinched at the volume of her voice, but pulled her into a hug all the same. Without needing a response or instruction, Jonquil hopped over Gendry's head and rushed to the closet to pick her clothes out for the day. Gendry rolled his eyes and stood slowly, grimacing as his thighs protested his movement again. He carefully leaned over the crib, checking to make sure the baby was sleeping inside. Barra had just turned one last month, and her thin black hair was just starting to grow out. She was sound asleep, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Gendry chuckled softly at her ability to sleep through anything, and left the room.

By the time he had stopped in his room, put his socks and trainers on, and grabbed his gym bag and cell phone before he made his way back out to the kitchen. In less than the two minutes that had taken, the flat had come to life with taking and the mindless pop of a small radio, and the chirping of birds through the newly opened windows. Edric, Jonquil, and Robin were all seated on the floor in front of the couch eating their cereal and watching the morning news. Gendry checked the time on his phone and took a breath.

"Alright, you lot. Hurry up. Your bus will be here any minute."

Gendry pulled a thin jacket off the arm of the couch and set his bag down before he pulled the jacket on, leaving it unzipped. He collected the empty cereal bowls and dumped them in the sink, made sure everyone had a jacket and their school bag, gathered his belongings, and went to the door.

"Alright, Ed, you take them down to the bus stop. Shit, hurry up, I can see it through the window. Go on, have a good day."

Gendry gave them a gentle shove out the door and watched them run down the stairs before he leaned out the door and knocked on the door right across the hall.

"Mrs. Marino?"

"Just a moment, lovely! I've baked some cookies for the bambinos!"

The door flew open then, revealing a stout elderly woman with grey hair tied back under a silk scarf. Her olive toned face was lined with wrinkles that spoke of wisdom and harship, but the woman only smiled her sweet, knowing smile at him. Gendry inhaled the scent of fresh cookies and garlic and incense that always clung to the woman and smiled.

"You just missed them, the bus got here. They'll like that for after school, though." Gendry adjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Barra's still asleep, so she'll be wanting to eat when she gets up. I'll be home by the time the kids get home... Did you need me at the shop today?"

"No, no, you go enjoy yourself. You work too hard." She wagged a finger at him and chuckled before walking around him through the open door of his flat. Gendry rolled his eyes but smiled and nodded.

"Alright. Just give me a ring if you need me."

Mrs. Marino waved her hand in dismissal and closed the door on him, leaving Gendry in the silence of the hallway. He took a deep breath and collected his thoughts before he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you ready to go?"

"Oh, er, about that..."

"Damien you git. Don't you dare back out on me now."

"Alright, alright, I'll meet you there. Give me a bloody minute to shower at least."

Gendry hung up without gracing the man on the other end with a response. Peeved, he took the steps two at a time until he broke through the front door of the building onto the busy street. It was warming up by then; it never stayed cold for long in the city. Gendry tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and started down the pavement towards the bus stop, reaching it just as the bus pulled up. He bounded up the steps, absently offered his bus card to the driver, and then made his way down to an empty seat in the back of the bus.

He had seen every inch of the slums he lived in, but the wealthy district of the city always snapped him to attention in the bus and drew his eyes to the window. He allowed himself a moment to fantasize about the rich people and their fast cars and pretty girls and lobster dinners before the bus pulled to a stop.

"Last stop, kid."

Gendry quickly collected his possessions, smiled weakly at the bus driver, and descended the steps onto the pavement again. He looked and felt extremely out of place with the men and women in suits on their ways to work, but it was only a minute's walk from the bus stop to the gym.

"Gendry! You're alive, eh? I was worried you might not show after yesterday."

The man that greeted Gendry at the door was a burly man with short blonde hair and a scruffy beard around his jaw. Gendry rolled his eyes at the man and sighed.

"Wouldn't want to pass up free training."

The man laughed and clapped Gendry on the back, making Gendry stumble forward several steps before he caught himself. Without waiting for further conversation, Gendry walked brusquely past the man and to the training mats. That early in the morning the gym was always virtually empty, except for one or two competitive boxers that seemed to live there. Gendry edged around the mat to the locker room and ducked inside. Only one light was on inside the room, casting shadows from the rows of lockers over the pale tile floor. Gendry shivered at made his way down the first row before he dropped his gym bag onto the bench down the center of the rows. He plopped down next to his back and kicked his shoes off before he pulled his socks off and stuffed them back inside the trainers. He leaned forward and reached out, just catching the latch to a locker with the tips of his fingers. He pulled the locker open and chucked the shoes inside before he turned to his bag and unzipped it.

"I'm here, you arse."

Gendry glanced up from his bag and rolled his eyes after seeing the boy before him. Damien had been the closest thing Gendry had to a friend in a long time. He was a short, lean boy of an age with Gendry. He seemed to be comprised of mostly corded muscle and bones, but Gendry could testify for his strength after the first time he got beaten to a pulp while sparring. He had his father's scruffy blonde hair and his mother's brown eyes.

"_You're_ the one who insisted I come train at your dad's gym. Remember?"

"Shut up."

The boy sullenly made his way down to the next row of lockers, his bare feet coming down heavily on the tile floor and echoing through the empty room. Gendry rolled his eyes and pulled a pair of black shorts out of his bag, stood up, and stepped out of his sweatpants.

"Are you coming to work later?"

Gendry heard his question echo through the room, but did not answer at first. He tightened the waistband of his shorts and sat carefully, flinching against the feel of the cold metal bench against his bare skin. He turned back to his bag and picked up a roll of blue trainer's tape with his left hand, and wound it around his right. He did the same thing to his left until both hands were bound tightly. He wiggled his fingers, testing the tightness, and then stood. He punched at the air and hopped on the balls of his feet, gritting his teeth at the aches in his muscles.

"I dunno. Pro'lly. Don't have nowhere else to go."

Damien snorted.

"You ready, princess?"

Gendry rolled his eyes and got his mouth guard out of his bag. Without answering, he pushed open the door of the locker room and stepped out into the gym while he pulled one arm across his chest with the other hand to stretch his shoulder. The mat was cool and welcoming under his feet as he walked to the center and switched arms.

"Do you need a partner?"

Gendry looked up and dropped his arms. The girl standing before him was certainly like no one he'd ever seen in the city. No, he would remember that. She had the look of a northerner, with her milky white skin and big grey eyes. Her dark brown hair fell in messy waves to her chin, framing her face nicely. Gendry let his eyes move up and down her form, drinking in the sight. She wore a navy blue sports bra that left her abdomen bare. Under her porcelain skin, her muscles rippled with her breath, leaving Gendry no doubt that she was strong despite her slight stature. Her hands were wrapped in bright red tape, resting against her black spandex shorts that looked more like a bikini bottom than shorts. From there down there was only the smooth skin of her legs. He'd heard stories about girls like her, but in the stories they were princesses in dresses with makeup and curtsies and pretty words. No, this was much better than the stories.

"Do you need a partner or not?"

Gendry's eyes snapped back up to the girls face, and a foolish grin spread across his face.

_Damien who?_

"Yeah, sure."

"Just let me stretch."

"Mm."

Gendry absently rolled his shoulders and wrists, but he wasn't fooling anyone into thinking his mind was on the flexibility of his wrists. No, he was much more interested in the flexibility of the girl in front of him, who put one foot in front of the other and slid easily down into a split. Gendry swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from her. The girl leaned forward, folding herself over her front leg until her head was resting against her shin. Then she rolled her hip to the side and swung her back leg around the front before she spread her legs into a wide straddle and folded down so her chest was flat against. Only when she rose and rolled her wrists out could Gendry let out the breath he'd been holding in.

"A-Are you ready?"

His voice betrayed him, breaking and shooting higher. The girl smirked at him and reached down, grabbing both of their helmets. She tossed Gendry his and put her own on. Gendry barely caught it. He took a deep breath and focused on putting the helmet on his head, and then on inserting his mouth guard properly. When he looked up, the girl was right in front of him, trailing her fingertips lightly down his chest.

"Promise to go easy on me?"

She looked up at him from under her lashes with those big grey eyes and jutted her lower lip out in a pout that was going to give Gendry some serious problems with his loose shorts unless he could control his thoughts. He swallowed hard and gave the girl a lopsided grin.

"Well since you said please."

And then a foot connected with the side of his head with such speed and force that Gendry was sprawled out on the ground several feet away before he knew what was happening. When he blinked away the blurriness of his vision and staggered to his feet, the girl was smiling sweetly at him.

"That was your first mistake."

The girl quickly inserted a plain black mouth guard. Then she arched her back and with surprising ease bent backwards to the ground, staying there for only a tenth of a second before her feet left the ground, arched gracefully over her body, and reached the ground on the opposite side. She returned to standing and settled into a fighting stance with a small smirk on her face.

_Who in the seven hells did I just agree to spar with?_

In actuality, it wasn't much of a spar. The girl beat Gendry into submission without breaking a sweat. Gendry couldn't even get a punch in as the girl flipped and twirled around the mat. Damien, the owner of the gym, and the two competitive boxers had gathered around the mat and started cheering with each blow the girl dealt. When Gendry was lying flat on the mat panting for breath, the girl placed a foot lightly on his chest and removed her helmet and mouth guard, smiling down at him.

"Good match."

She lifted her foot then and extended a hand to him, helping him easily to his feet. Gendry took his helmet off and spit his mouth guard out, dropping his helmet to the floor. He doubled over and placed his hands on his knees, trying desparately to catch his breath.

_You just got your arse kicked by a girl half your size._

Gendry righted himself and looked at the girl, who seemed incredibly pleased with herself. Despite himself, a small smile broke across Gendry's face and he shook his head.

"Do I at least get to know your name?"

"Arya."

The girl held her tiny, taped hand out to Gendry, who dubiously eyed it before he smiled and nodded. The girl dropped her hand and smiled in what seemed to be approval. A soft gust of warm air rushed into the gym as the doors opened behind Gendry, and the girl's eyes snapped up. For a moment, she looked panicked. Then, she composed herself and smiled at Gendry.

"Same time tomorrow?"

"Er... Yeah, sure."

"Gotta run."

Gendry turned to watch her grab her bag and sprint with surprising speed between the two men in suits who had just walked in. They stumbled back, and a moment later shoved the doors open and sprinted after the girl.

_Who in the seven hells did I just spar with?_

Gendry turned back to his companions, who were all laughing so hard Gendry thought they might throw up, and decided that kickboxing was his new favourite thing in the world. He didn't know who this Arya was, but he would be damned if he wasn't going to find out. With the thought of those little spandex shorts fresh in his mind, Gendry left the gym and lost himself in the busy city street.


	2. Southern Boy

**A/N: Wow! People actually read this. I originally started this story just for fun, and hadn't even planned on posting it. So your reviews and follows and favourites mean the absolute world to me. From now on I'm going to try to update this story every Sunday, and since this chapter was mostly done, you get a bonus this week. To all of my American readers, happy Superbowl... My American husband was incredibly upset that he was going to miss all of the parties with his mates back home. I never will understand that sport. Anyway! Read, review, enjoy!**

"What's his name?"

Arya pressed her lips tightly together and let the question hang in the air. She let her grey eyes move the shock of red hair visible over her shoulder and gave a sigh. Sansa worked with nimble fingers to cover an angry purple bruise that spread from the base of Arya's skull down to her left shoulder blade. Sansa's breath was warm against Arya's skin, and her fingers were light as feathers. As much as Arya hated to admit it, she enjoyed these peaceful moments with her sister.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

Sansa's room was just like Arya's. The walls were a cream colour and there was no shortage of windows. All of the windows were covered with sheer silk curtains that fluttered in the breeze and whispered the secrets of the wind. The bed was a magnificent canopy bed with light pink sheer silk hanging all around it and enclosing whoever slept inside. Everything was pristine and glittering and golden, but it was nothing compared to their home. They had been given an entire wing of the sprawling estate in the city, as had been expected. They _were_ the guests of honour, after all.

"You do so and you know it."

A soft knock came at the door, followed by the even softer voice of Sansa's favourite maid.

"Beg pardon for the intrusion, Princess Sansa, but your mother has sent me to assist you."

"No, we're fine, Sophia. I've already had my hair and makeup done. I'm just helping Arya get ready." Sansa lowered her voice and said, "Gods know you need it."

Arya rolled her eyes and let the insult slide. She would need Sansa if she was going to pull this off. Sansa straightened behind Arya, flicked her hair off her shoulder and inspected her handy work. Arya looked at Sansa in the mirror, sighing. She looked beautiful, as always. Her hair was braided back at the temples in the northern style, secured at the back with a glittering diamond clip that had been given to her just that morning. The rest of her hair hung in loose curls down her back. She wore a simple silk lavender dress with white lace detailing, and modest white kitten heels. Arya looked back at her own face in the mirror and scowled.

"You should smile, it suits you more."

Sansa raked her fingers through Arya's still damp hair gently. Then she rose and opened a carved wooden jewelry box sitting on the bureau that she had brought from home. She opened it gently, peering inside for a moment before she retrieved a net of fine silk thread and pearls. She knelt behind Arya again, and set to work on rolling her hair at the base of her neck and tucking more bobby pins in than Arya could count. She gently put the net over Arya's hair, leaving only the short bits at the front out. She worked in silence for a while, curling the front bits before she set to smearing tinted cream all over Arya's face.

"So tell me about him."

"Sansa, I don't know who you're talking about."

Sansa rolled her eyes and set the bottle of cream down before wiping her hands delicately on a towel. She turned to her arsenal of paints and powders and creams for a moment, contemplating.

"You've snuck out every day this week, and you haven't trained with any of your instructors, but you still have bruises. Bruises that you've asked me to cover up, mind you. Plus you've been all... giggly. Like a proper girl. So tell me his name."

Arya hesitated, averting her eyes as Sansa turned back to face her. In truth, she didn't know his name. He was just the handsome boy with the piercing blue eyes that couldn't box to save his life. He didn't ask her questions or want to talk to her because of her family. He was content with letting her beat him to a pulp. She had tried to correct his technique, but he was as stubborn as they came. And despite her temper and lack of etiquette, he seemed to genuinely enjoy her company, which was something Arya rarely found in people. Arya let her eyes slide shut, thinking back to the gym that morning.

_"You fight like a girl. Worse than a girl. You fight like my sister."_

_His bright blue eyes turned on her, wide with mock hurt. He clutched a hand to his chest, dripping with sweat. _

_"That hurt, Arya."_

_Arya rolled her eyes and elbowed him weakly, too exhausted to put any more effort into beating the boy up than she already had. Arya ran a hand through her hair, which was damp with sweat, and took a long drink from her water bottle._

_"What are you doing tonight?"_

_Arya turned to look at the boy, pausing a moment to take him in. He had abandoned his sweat soaked shirt and sat on the edge of the mat, legs out in front of him. The muscles in his arm and chest rippled as he brought a hand up to rub the opposite shoulder. Arya bit her lip and looked away, busying herself with another drink of water._

_"I have to have dinner with my family. But nothing after that."_

_"There's going to be a boxing match, near where I live tonight. Nothing professional or fancy. But it could be fun, if you wanted to go..."_

_"Where will it be?"_

_Arya wiped the water off her mouth with the back of her hand and collapsed onto the mat beside him, bringing a leg up to inspect a particularly nasty bruise on her thigh._

_"There's this old gym that went out of business. The owner of the property lets us use the ring there for fights and stuff. It's not exactly in the nicest part of town, but-"_

_"Where can I meet you? And what time?"_

_"Oh, er... I'll see if I can borrow my sister's car. I can pick you up? At 10."_

_"I'll meet you by the old clock tower."_

_"What, by the King's estate?"_

"See? There you go, probably daydreaming about your mystery man."

Arya's eyes snapped back to Sansa and blood rushed to her face.

"I am not, you stupid. Hurry up, we're going to be late."

Sansa smiled slightly, amused, and then resumed her work in silence. In only an hour she transformed Arya from a bruised and dirty gutter rat to Princess Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of Eddard Stark, King of the North.

Arya stood and stretched her legs out briefly before she crossed the room to where her clothes were laid out on the bed. Sansa followed, her heels echoing soft _clicks_ through the big room. Sansa picked up Arya's dress and helped her into it. She set her shoes onto the ground and made Arya step into them.

"Now look at yourself."

Sansa spun Arya around gently but firmly, her slender fingers surprisingly strong on Arya's arms. Arya faced Sansa's full length mirror and looked herself over. For a moment, she scarcely recognized herself. The dress that had been chosen for her was a navy blue that contrasted her pale skin. The neckline was high, cutting off just below her collarbone, and scooping slightly to meet the other side at the top of her shoulder. The hem hit just above her knees and a thin string of pearls were sewn to the dress at her waist. Her shoes were higher than Sansa's, but barely closed the gaps in their heights. She looked, for once, like an actual princess. And she hated it.

She turned to Sansa with a sigh and smiled.

"Thank you. Mother will be pleased. Let's go."

Sansa glanced in the mirror and fixed her hair before she turned back to Arya and nodded. They linked elbows loosely, and made their way down to the dining room with only the soft _click_s of their shoes to keep them company. That, and the guards posted every ten feet throughout the building. Sansa walked with her head inclined slightly and a bored, yet dignified look on her face. Being a princess was what Sansa was born for. She had taken all of the royal blood and left none for Arya, who walked clumsily in the heels, smiling at the guards she spent her time talking to.

The maids and servants curtsied and muttered courtesies as the sisters passed, and Sansa was sure to smile her best royal smile at them. Arya ignored them. Her feet hurt already, her head itched from the net, and she was dying for dinner to be over. The soft murmur of conversation became audible as they neared the great dining room. The doors were colossal, easily taller than two of the tallest men in the city stacked on top of each other. They were carved intricately out of ivory, with glass in spaces where the ivory left gaps. As they approached them, two servants pulled the great things open, allowing the girls entrance to the room.

Arya scanned the room quickly, assessing her surroundings. In truth, the dining room could barely be called a room. Arya knew there were multiple rooms for feasts in the palace, but this was the first one she had seen that was almost entirely open to the elements. The walls were perforated every two feet by great ivory arches. Sheer silk curtains were tied back to the columns of the arches, fluttering gently in the breeze. The floor was a sparkling white marble, and upon it was an ivory and glass table long enough to seat twenty people. At the far end of the table was King Robert, face buried in a glass of wine already. To his left was Cersei, smiling politely at something her husband had said. Their three children sat next to Cersei, and across the table were all of Arya's family.

"Girls! Come in, come in! We were wondering if you got lost!"

Robert's booming laughter rang out through the room, making Arya flinch. She bore no hatred for the man, but she bore no love either. The girls walked brusquely over to the table, taking their seats and exchanging their greetings like proper little princesses. And thus, dinner carried on. Arya had no interest for politics, and the conversation between the kings barely reached her ears. Arya scarcely paid any attention at all, except for to the time. It seemed to Arya that time was ticking by incredibly slow, and the more the kings ate and drank and laughed, the slower time went. Finally, when the kings had finished their drinks and conversation had died down, the children were excused to get to bed. Arya could scarcely be called a child anymore as she would be sixteen in two weeks, but she took her opportunity and fled the dining room as quickly as courtesy would allow. Ignoring the sharp call from her mother, Arya stepped out of the dining room, and turned the opposite direction of Bran and Rickon. With each click of her heels she flinched, until at last she found herself in a deserted hallway.

Arya stepped out of the death traps disguising themselves as shoes and picked them up. After allowing her sore feet a moment of rest, she took off running down the empty corridor. Her feet barely made a sound as she bounded down the hall on the balls of her feet. She knew how to be silent, and she had spent most of her time in the city exploring the palace for places to hide or escape if she needed to. Arya rounded a corner, heart pounding in her chest as she sprinted for the winding staircase the servants used. She took the steps two at a time, praying to all of the gods she could think of that she wouldn't run into anyone on her way. Arya sprinted only another moment before she found herself closing a door and slumping back against it to catch her breath.

Numbly, Arya looked around to realize she was back in her own room. A small smile spread over her face at the little victory, and she turned her lock just as she heard Bran and Rickon enter the hallway with their personal guard. Arya stepped away from her door and reached around her back to unzip her dress. With some effort, she grasped the zipper between two fingers and pulled down until the dress fell loosely around her shoulders. Arya shrugged out of the dress, letting it pool around her feet before she stepped out of it. A warm breeze fluttered around her mostly bare body, allowing Arya only a moment to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. The time on her clock read nine forty-five, and Arya knew she had little time to spare.

She crossed the room carefully, making sure to create the least amount of noise possible. She opened the trunk at the end of her bed and pulled out the worn pair of jeans she had promised to throw out a year ago. With her heart still pounding in her chest, Arya stepped into the jeans and pulled them up, buttoning them to keep them in place. She pulled out a thin white tank top and a red plaid flannel shirt Jon had handed down to her in secret after he outgrew it. Arya slipped the items on, leaving the flannel shirt unbuttoned. Arya spun on her bare feet, pulling the pearl strung hair net out as she made her way to the bathroom attached to her room. With as much speed as she could manage without leaving traces of paint on her face, Arya scrubbed her face clean with a bar of soap that left her face smooth and clean and smelling of roses. She unpinned her hair, ruffled it quickly, and stopped to survey herself in the mirror.

_That'll have to be good enough._

With one last look, she turned and left the bathroom, slipped on a pair of socks, and then laced up her trainers. She turned to the bed then, pursing her lips. Finally she sighed and arranged some pillows under the blanket so it looked vaguely like a person was in the bed, and turned to go to the window.

"Arya?"

_Dammit_.

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

"Err... I guess. Hold on."

Arya crossed her room and unlocked the door, grasped the doorknob firmly in her hand, and opened the door just a crack. Jon was standing there, his curly mop of hair nicely tamed and presentable from dinner. He had already changed out of his tux into a pair of blue flannel pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt. Jon was a grown man of 21, but he still had the look of a young boy to Arya. The stubble he was growing along his jaw barely hid his youthful face and kind eyes.

"Where are you going?"

Jon narrowed his eyes and pushed the door open, stepping inside. Arya flinched, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Nowhere."

"That's why you're dressed to go out, then?"

Arya sighed impatiently and looked at her brother, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm going to watch a boxing match."

"You mean you're sneaking out to watch a boxing match."

"Same difference."

Arya muttered and turned away from him, walking back to the window and peering down. The drop was further than she would be able to make in one jump. She would have to climb down the side of the building to the roof over a first-floor room. From there she could easily jump.

"You be careful, Arya."

Arya glanced back at him and hesitated a moment before she nodded.

"Cover for me?"

"You owe me, Arya Stark. Gods knows what dad will do if he knows you snuck out _again_."

He grinned at her and put a hand on the doorknob, ready to leave. Arya smiled slightly and rolled her eyes by means of a response before she hopped up onto the windowsill and let her legs dangle out. She dropped down then, catching the outside of the windowsill with her fingertips. The wind whipped at her short hair, sending it flying wildly around her face as she felt along the wall with the tips of her trainers. When she found solid footing at the top of a vine-covered lattice, she slowly made her way down the building, ignoring the pricks in her fingers from the thorns. Finally, her feet made contact with the soft grass and she wiped her scratched hands off on the tops of her thighs. Arya glanced around, surveying how many guards were patrolling the area. A man was standing not two metres away from Arya, with his dark armor-clad back facing her. Arya held her breath and crouched down low to the ground, moving as swiftly as she dared from shadow to shadow, until she was under the cover of the thick patch of woods beside the palace.

Arya stood straight and stretched her back out from being crouched, allowing herself only a moment of rest before she took of running at the edge of the woods. Only when the clock tower was in plain sight did Arya duck out of the forest and blend in with a group of loud, drunken Braavosi tourists that were making their way towards the tower. The group veered to the left and Arya stayed straight, walking straight to the tower while scanning the crowds. Finally, her eyes caught on a pair of piercing blue eyes that smiled and welcomed her.

"You made it."

He weaved around bodies with surprising agility until he stood in front of Arya, for the first time in clothes other than gym shorts. Arya smiled a little, looking over his plain black tee shirt and tattered grey jeans. His eyes were lit up with excitement and a smile played at his lips. He held a big, calloused hand out to her, and without pausing to think, Arya took it in her own. His hand was surprisingly warm against her skin, and she could feel the cracks and lines in his skin that spoke of hard work and struggle. There were certainly no boys like him up north. He was a southern boy, with his tanned skin and broken accent and rough hands.

"D'you mind walking? It'll only take 'bout fifteen minutes. I know some shortcuts. It'll be an adventure."

"I love adventure."

A small burst of laughter slipped through the boys lips, making Arya smile despite herself.

"I'd say I'll protect you, but we both know you can defend yourself."

Arya tightened her grip on his hand and smiled, breathing in the warm city air. Back home, the air smelled like snow and wood and fire. Here, the air was thick with a myriad of different smells- most of which Arya couldn't even identify.

"What's your name? I never asked."

"Gendry."

"Gendry..."

She let the name roll off her tongue, testing the way it felt. A small smile touched her lips. Yes, Gendry suited him.

"Do you have a last name?"

"Do you?"

Gendry's words came so quickly in response that Arya stopped walking for a moment to process. She resumed walking, glancing over at him curiously. His eyes softened when they met hers, and he gave her a sheepish half-grin.

"Sorry. Uhm, we can just stick with Arya and Gendry."

Arya nodded slightly, letting silence fall over them. They walked for what felt like an eternity in an awkward silence, watching as the buildings and shops around them became less and less elaborate the further they got from the palace.

"Never been to this part of the city before?"

Gendry's voice was gentle, and she glanced over to see his eyes studying her reactions as they walked. In truth, no. Arya had never been to that particular part of the city before. She had only ever been to the south once before, and she had been only two years old then.

"I'm not from around here."

"No, you're from the North, right?"

"What gave me away?"

Gendry snorted beside her, turning his gaze forwards again.

"There aren't any girls like you here. Besides, if you want to act like one of us, you should at least learn how to talk like us."

"Fine, if you know so much about me, tell me."

Arya crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, annoyed at how arrogant this boy sounded. Gendry raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged.

"As milady commands."

"Just shut up at tell me already."

Genry chuckled softly before he began to speak.

"You're from the North. Pretty far north. If I had to guess, the capital. You don't look like a village girl. Winterfell, isn't it? Anyway. You're well educated, pro'lly private school. But you know how to fight better'n any girl I've ever met. You have a few brothers, I'd say. And I know for sure you have a sister, you've mentioned her. Your parents are pro'lly upper middle class. You've never worked a day in your life, and this is your first time in King's Landing."

He turned to look at her to see her reaction. Arya smirked, but said nothing. He had only been correct about half of the things, but she wasn't going to tell him if he was right or wrong.

"Now I get to do you."

Gendry chuckled. "Try your best."

"Your parents are either dead or abandoned you. You have older siblings, but you're the one responsible for your younger siblings- who you would do anything for. You hold a resentment towards your father, for whatever reason. You say you only took up boxing because your friend Damien talked you into it, but you really wanted an outlet for your anger. You used to enter into amateur fights, but you always got your arse kicked. You have... some secret, but don't bother trying to cover up, I don't _want_ to know your secrets. You have nightmares that keep you up at night. One of your siblings is a baby, or at least under two. You have a craft. Something old, I'm not sure if it's metalworking or welding, but one of those. If I had to pick, I'd say you make things. Like jewelry or sculptures or something. You strike me as artistic, in your own way. You have a second job that you hate, something low paying and using your strength. Maybe loading things onto a truck or something. You dropped out of school, and you're not very book smart. But that's not to say that you're dumb. And finally, you only like me for my body."

The last bit had been teasing, but when Arya looked at Gendry, he was gaping at her with his lips parted slightly and his eyes wide as saucers.

"How-... how did you..."

"Maybe I'm _magic_."

"Arya-"

"I'm observant. That's all. You're the one who wanted to play this game, it's not my fault if you lose. Are we almost there?"

Gendry stared at her dumbly for a moment before he turned his gaze forward and walked another step in shaky silence. For a brief moment, Arya felt guilty for being so harsh, but only for a moment. He had been asking for it; he deserved it.

"How long have you been boxing?"

"My dad wouldn't let me try it until I was fourteen."

"So, that's been, what..."

"Nearly two years. My name day's in two weeks."

"Do you do any other sports or anything?"

"My mum tried to talk me into taking dancing lessons with Sansa, but that never did happen. I fence, do gymnastics and... a couple other things. School, too."

"So you are a private school brat."

Arya looked over at him and sneered at his smug smile.

"Actually, I'm homeschooled."

Gendry gave an annoyed snort and crossed his arms over his chest. For the rest of the trip, Gedry and Arya walked in silence, save for the soft scuff of their trainers on the pavement and the noise of the city around them. After what felt like an eternity, Genry made a hard left and they stepped through the rusty doors of a decaying brick building. The were greeted by drunken cheers and pats on the back as they made their way through the hazy gym to a wide staircase on the east wall. Gendry placed a hand on Arya's back, leading her down the stairs to the most thrilling sight Arya had ever seen. The room was huge- bigger than the great hall in the King's sprawling white castle. A boxing ring was set in the middle, with two contestants bouncing lightly in their corners. All around were towering bleachers filled with rowdy, cheering people.

"Holy..."

"C'mon."

Gendry had to shout to be heard over the noise of the crowd as he took Arya's hand and walked her to the third row of the least crowded set of bleachers. They squeezed in at the end, settling into their seats. Arya could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she imagined what her mother or Sansa would say if they could see her at that moment.

"D'you want a drink?"

Gendry placed his lips nearly on her ear to be heard, pointing to a girl in a too-tight tank top walking around with cans of an off-brand beer. Arya hesitated, pushing the image of her mother and Sansa out of her mind, and nodded. Gendry nodded and lifted his hips slightly, stuffing a hand into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He held a hand up, motioning the girl over while he pulled a wrinkled bill out of the wallet. He reached across Arya, handed the money to the girl, and took one can in each hand from the girl. The girl stuffed the money into her bra and walked away, swaying her hips.

Gendry held the can out to her, opening his own and taking a swig. Arya took the can and pried the tab open with a fingernail, the soft hiss and click of an opening can lost in the noise around them. She brought the can to her lips, taking a hesitant sip. The liquid hit her tongue and made her cringe at the taste. The only alcohol to ever pass her lips before was wine, and she could barely tolerate the taste of that. The beer smelled like piss and tasted even worse, but she refused to look like a rich snob in front of Gendry. So she held her breath and knocked the can back, chugging for a moment.

When she lowered the can and turned to Gendry, he was laughing, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"There's plenty of beer, you don't have to chug it."

Arya felt a blush creep over her face, so she brought the can to her lips to keep busy and avoid looking at Gendry. The bell rang out, cutting through the white noise of the crowd, and the two men emerged from their corners with their fists raised. Before long, Arya lost herself in the fight and drank more than she cared to admit. She quickly lost all remaining inhibitions and found herself standing on the bleacher shouting for the contender of her choice. Gendry would chuckle and pull her down at first, but before long he was right next to her, fighting to be heard above the rest of the shouts.

Arya only vaguely remembered the rest of the fights, and the next thing she knew the cool night air was hitting her face while she stumbled along the sidewalk, Gendry's arm draped clumsily around her waist.

"Do you want to stay at my place?"

"Mm?"

"You can just stay at my place, it's right down the block."

Arya giggled, leaning into Gendry's side.

"Kay."

And then, Arya found herself inside a dimly lit bedroom with her back pressed against the cool wooden door. The floors were littered with dirty clothes and other things. Gendry kicked his shoes off next to her and walked towards the bed, peeling his shirt off slowly. He unbuttoned his jeans then, stumbling out of them so awkwardly that Arya heard herself giggle. A fire was burning in the pit of her stomach, radiating out and warming her whole body up. Without thought and seemingly of their own accord, her hands reached forward and unbuttoned her jeans. She wiggled her hips and let the jeans fall to the floor before she stepped out of them and shrugged her flannel shirt off. She felt oddly comfortable in her tank top and black boy-short underwear in front of Gendry, who was only in his blue striped boxers.

Gendry crossed the room, quickly closing the small gap between them. She felt his hands in her own, pulling her back with him towards the bed. He sat clumsily back against the mattress, pulling Arya into his lap. She heard a giggle escape her lips, and felt oddly like a stranger in her own body.

"God, you're beautiful."

Gendry's voice was rough and thick, his breath hot against her face. Before she could think of a response, Gendry's lips were crushed against her own, his hand on her back pulling her against his chest. He smelled like sweat and soap and metal, and Arya had never smelled a more alluring scent in her entire life. His lips tasted like beer and salt, and his arms around her waist made Arya feel like more of a girl than Sansa. He _wanted _her, just as Arya. But as they laid back against the mattress and huddled up under the covers, they both knew they were too drunk and exhausted to do much more than kiss. Arya buried her face against Gendry's muscular chest and let a sleep filled with less than ladylike dreams come over her.


	3. Exploring

**A/N: Hey, guys. Ok, I do realize I've now missed **_**two**_** Sundays, but I was having a baby! Cut me some slack... It's a long story- but I was in the hospital from last Sunday to this Saturday, and yesterday was too hectic to even think about getting on my computer. It's a bit short, but it's something. Anyway, it's up now, and I promise I'll have the next chapter out next Sunday. It's going to be a bear of a chapter net week, be warned. Ok, anyway, enjoy, and remember to review!**

If it hadn't been for the snoring, Arya might have slept all day. However, Arya found it increasingly difficult to sleep with every minute that the chainsaw of a boy slept beside her. When it became apparent that she would not be able to fall asleep again, Arya moved silent as a shadow over Gendry's sleeping form. Her feet hit the cold wooden floor, and without a sound she made her way to the door. She was almost certain that he would sleep through an earthquake, but she didn't want to take chances. She turned the metal doorknob and slipped through the door, pulling it shut behind her.

Arya let out the breath she had been holding in and put a hand over her pounding heart. She broke out in a grin.

_I am in so much trouble when I get back_.

Arya danced down the hallway, her short choppy hair bouncing against her bare shoulders. The straps of her white tank top had slid down to rest lazily against her biceps, and the hem rode up to her belly button. She tried to imagine Sansa running around some southern boy's apartment in her underwear, but the thought made a chuckle escape Arya's lips. She knew she would have to face her father, her mother, and her personal guard when she got home, but she hadn't felt so alive since they left Winterfell. The apartment was cramped and dirty, but to Arya it was paradise. No one watching your every move, no one to tell you to stand up straight or mind your manners, no one to tell you _no_. Arya laughed again as she cartwheeled across the small living room. She landed on the cool tile of the kitchen, pausing only for a moment before she turned and pulled the fridge open.

Arya scanned the contents- a pitcher of orange juice, a container of margarine, a jar of jam, and a bag of moldy cheese. She wrinkled her nose slightly, but pulled out the orange juice and the jam. Arya spun on her heels, kicking the refrigerator shut behind her. She set the orange juice and jam on the counter and started rummaging through the pantry and the cabinets until she had a spread of jam, orange juice, a loaf of bread, and a banana. She vowed to buy Gendry groceries by the end of the day.

"What are you doing?"

Arya looked up from her pile of food to see Gendry emerging from his room. His hair was unkempt and sticking up in random places, and a pale shadow had formed around his jaw. He wore only his boxers, which were held lazily on his hips.

"Making breakfast."

Gendry raised an eyebrow and walked over to stand behind her. He lazily snaked his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"This is breakfast?"

Arya brought an elbow back to connect with his stomach, sending him stumbling back and laughing softly.

"Well if you think you can do better..."

"Ow. Gods, Arya."

Arya rolled her eyes and turned back to the counter to set to work. She spread a thick layer of jam over two pieces of bread and turned to Gendry.

"Well? Get to work. Slice the banana."

"You know, there's a diner down the street. We could just pick something up..."

"No, shush. We can make this work."

Gendry rolled his eyes and pulled a knife out of a drawer by the sink. He took a place next to Arya at the counter and peeled back the waxy yellow skin of the banana. He freed the fruit inside and brought the knife down, metal biting into the soft pale yellow flesh to make a nice neat slice.

"Jam and banana sandwiches?"

"Jam and banana sandwiches."

Arya agreed with a nod, slathering two more slices of bread with strawberry jam.

"Where is everyone? Your brothers and sisters and all."

"Oh, uh, my neighbour got the younger ones on the bus, and took the baby to her shop with her... My older sisters, though... fuck if I know."

"What are their names? Your brothers and sisters."

Gendry took a breath and started lining the slices of banana up on the jam-covered bread.

"Mya's the oldest. She got a full ride scholarship to a uni 'bout an hour from here. Then Bella, she still lives here, but we don't see much of her. Ed's younger'n me, he's a good kid... smart. Then there's the twins, Quill and Robin. And then Barra's the baby... How about you? What're you're brothers and sisters called?"

Arya hesitated, taking her time to fit the top piece of bread onto her sandwich.

"Well, I have one sister and four brothers."

"Are you the youngest?"

"No, I have two little brothers."

Arya carefully poured herself a glass of orange juice and picked it up with her left hand. In her right she picked her sandwich up and left the kitchen, padding over to the tattered couch. Gendry was right at her heels, and he plopped down next to her only a second after she had settled into the lumpy cushions.

"Tell me about them."

Arya bit into her sandwich, chewed, and washed the bite down with a gulp of sour orange juice. She shrugged then, running the tip of her finger around the rim of the chipped glass. A hollow note rang out through the small room from the glass. Arya let the note die out before she spoke.

"Robb's the oldest. He's... just like my dad. Then there's Jon... I dunno. I've always been closest to Jon. He's the exciting one... Or at least, he's the only one who will cover for me when I want to sneak out." Arya smiled a little and paused to take another bite of her sandwich. "Sansa's my older sister. She's... pretty and prim and proper and everything I'm not. If she weren't so damn ladylike I'm pretty sure she'd love to hit me. Then there's Bran, he fell from an old stone wall a few years ago and was paralyzed from the waist down. But he's a fighter. Rickon's the baby of the family. He's sweet, but he's a stubborn little thing."

Arya turned to see Gendry studying her intently, and felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She suddenly felt so _stupid_ for giving so much away. Of course he would know who she was then. She'd practically told him. But, to her surprise, Gendry just nodded and took a bite of his sandwich.

"D'you have any pets or anything?"

"We have wolves."

"Wolves?"

Gendry nearly choked on his sandwich, and quickly took Arya's orange juice to take a gulp. Arya bit back a laugh and shrugged.

"Ok, maybe not wolves, per se. They're hybrids, half wolf half dog. They're fairly common in the North. My dad found a litter of pups when they were out hunting, he brought them home to us as presents. We each have one."

"Wolves?"

"Gendry, shut up."

Arya laughed and elbowed him playfully.

"So what're their names?"

"Mine is Nymeria... Robb's is Grey Wind, Jon's is Ghost, Sansa's is Lady, Bran's is Summer, and Rickon's is Shaggydog. Dad made us leave them back at home."

"Nymeria, that's a weird name."

"So is Gendry."

Gendry rolled his eyes and ate some more of his sandwich, setting Arya's glass of orange juice down on the splintered wooden coffee table.

"When are you going back home?"

"Two weeks."

"Oh. Are you excited to be back home?"

Arya bit her lip and shrugged, tearing off a bit of her sandwich.

"I miss the cold. And Nymeria, and all of that. This place smells like filth. I miss the fresh air... But I dunno, there's adventures to be had here. Maybe I'll come visit again soon, if I can get away."

"You make it sound like you're a slave. Is your father strict?"

Arya chuckled and shook her head at the irony.

"Y'know, I should probably get back soon. They're going to absolutely _kill_ me when they realize I'm gone. And you, if they find out I'm here."

Gendry scoffed.

"I'm not afraid of your father."

_You should be_.

"Either way... Unless you can convince me to stay, I'll be going now."

Arya shifted her weight forward to stand, only to feel Gendry's hand wrap around her wrist and pull her back. Arya quickly set her sandwich on the coffee table and turned to Gendry, and was immediately captured against his lips. Arya barely held back a moan. She had kissed other boys, though her father would believe otherwise, but none like Gendry. She could taste the orange juice and jam on his lips, feel his warmth rolling off his tanned skin. A hand, surprisingly gentle for it's size, ran down her back slowly to settle at the top of her black boyshort underwear.

"You're very convincing."

"I try."

Before Arya could respond. Gendry's lips were on hers again, his tongue running across her lower lip slowly. Arya parted her lips to grant him access and pressed her body against his. Suddenly, any thought of leaving the apartment, or her parents, or her personal guard hunting her down left her mind. All that she knew was the taste of Gendry's lips and the heat of his body against hers.

And then, her phone went off in the next room. The vibration of the phone, which was still in the pocket of her jeans, bounced off the floor and sent small tremors through the thin walls. A series of soft beeps filled the air then, and Arya pulled back. She had assigned different ring tones to different contacts, and this one was Jon.

"Shit, hold on."

Arya vaulted off the couch and sprinted the short distance to Gendry's room. She threw the door open and slid to a stop at her jeans, which were a messy pile on the floor. She tore her phone out of the pocket and slammed down the accept button before bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Arya, where the hell are you? Dad's about to call a damn search party."

"Ah, uhm, I'll be there in... fifteen minutes, tops. Cover for me."

"Arya, I-"

"Thanks, you're the best!"

Arya hung up and stepped into her wrinkled jeans, yanking them up to rest at her hips. She hastily buttoned them and found her flannel shirt on the floor at the foot of Gendry's bed. She slid the shirt on over her white tank top and stepped into her shoes on her way out of the room.

"You're leaving, then?"

"I'll see you at the gym, tomorrow maybe?"

"Definitely."

Arya waved at Gendry and threw open the door to his apartment, not bothering to shut it behind her in her haste. She could hear Gendry calling something out to her, but she couldn't make out what as she raced down the steps. Arya broke free of the apartment building onto the busy street, pausing only for a moment to get her bearings. In truth, she had no idea where she was or how to get back on foot, but she didn't have any money for a taxi either. So instead she looked up, spotting the clock tower above all of the other crumbling buildings around them. She took off running in that direction, pushing through the busy streets until the palace loomed ahead of her. She ducked into the woods when she drew close, not wanting to capture the attention of anyone smart enough to recognize her. She broke through to the lawn of the palace and caught the eyes of one of the guards by her window.

"Princess Ar-"

"Give me a lift up to that ledge."

The man stared at Arya for a moment, baffled. Then he clumsily clasped his hands together low to the ground, and Arya stuck her foot into his hands. He lifted her up easily, and Arya grasped the ledge. She pulled herself up carefully and hugged the wall as she scaled her way over to her window. She pulled the window open and vaulted inside, tucking her head down and rolling. She sprung up to her feet in time to see Jon shut her door behind him.

"Dammit, Arya. You're going to get us both killed. Dad's meeting with King Robert, and mom had to go have tea with Cersei and her demon spawns. You have ten minutes. Take a shower, you smell terrible... I don't even want to know where you were. Be in the sitting room in ten minutes, and when dad asks, you got lost exploring the secret passages in the castle. You went in behind the statue in the great hall and you came out under the painting of Aegon the Conqueror in the dungeons. Understood?"

Arya didn't answer him, she only turned and ran across her room into her bathroom. She heard Jon exit the room behind her just before she turned the shower on to the hottest setting. She stripped down quickly and stepped in, wincing at the heat. Arya scrubbed her hair with shampoo that smelled like flowers and honey, and scrubbed her skin raw with soap that smelled like roses. Arya rinsed herself of quickly and stepped out, dried herself of hastily with a thick white towel, and ran out into her room. Arya ran to the large closet all of her clothes had been put in and dropped her towel. She threw on undergarments and yanked on a simple white and navy and grey tea dress that stopped at her knees and had dainty little cap sleeves. She stepped into white heels, pinned some of her hair back and dried the rest off the best she could, and walked as quickly as she could manage without raising suspicion out of the room.

Arya reached the sitting room Jon had mentioned just as her mother walked in. She looked perfect, as usual. Her hair was tied back into a roll at the base of her neck, and she wore a gown of light blue that brought out the colour of her eyes. Those same eyes bore into Arya's, making Arya feel naked.

"Young lady, where _have_ you been?"

Arya cleared her throat and moved to take her seat on the plush white couch, right next to Sansa. Sansa looked as radiant as ever, in a pale pink lace dress. Robb sat in a chair next to Sansa, in a grey button down shirt and black trousers. He had his arms folded across his chest and his grey eyes were trained patiently on Arya. Bran was between Robb's chair and the couch across from Arya, in his wheelchair. Rickon was curled up on the couch next to Bran, and Jon next to him in his white button down shirt and black trousers.

"I went exploring this morning. I got lost. I'm famished."

Arya reached forward and snatched a cookie off the tray on the table between them. A porcelain pot filled with tea sat on another tray next to it, with all of the fixings for tea around it. Arya bit into the cookie and turned back to her mother, who set her mouth in a grim line and crossed her arms.

"You were _exploring?_"

"There's loads of secret passageways under the castle, Septa Mordane said theyre from back when it was the Seven Kingdoms."

"That's not the point, Arya, you can't-"

The door opened then, and Eddard Stark walked into the room, flanked by two of his personal guards. His shoulder-length hair was pulled back at his temples, and he wore a black suit with a grey tie that bore the northern symbol- a growling direwolf.

"Arya, where have you been? I've sent Jory and twenty other of my men out looking for you."

"I was exploring."

Arya poured herself a cup of tea and added a healthy amount of sugar before she lifted the cup to her lips and let the sweet liquid fill her mouth. Eddard looked weary as he sighed and shook his head, and put an arm around Catelyn.

"She's safe, that's all that matters."

Robb cleared his throat and turned to look at their parents.

"How did the meeting go?"

"It was... taxing. We'll discuss it later. When you're finished tea, you'll go and do your lessons. _All_ of you."

Eddard turned his eyes on Arya, who only smiled sweetly at him and took another sip of tea. Eddard and Catelyn left the room quietly, leaving the six Stark children alone, save for the guards.

"Where were you _really_, Arya?"

Arya turned to Robb, who had posed the question, and smiled.

"Exploring."

"Bullshit. Where were you?"

"I really _was_ exploring. Just not inside the palace."

"You need to be careful, Arya. You're going to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself, Robb."

Robb sighed and shook his head, and Arya finished her tea. She stood then, and smoothed down her dress.

"I have lessons to get to."

Robb scoffed and Jon laughed, but Sansa stood.

"I'll walk with you."

Sansa linked arms with Arya and walked her out of the room, into the wide hallway outside the sitting room.

"Were you with him?"

Arya felt a smile touch her lips despite herself.

"I was exploring, Sansa. Don't be stupid."

Sansa scoffed softly beside her.

"What's his name."

"Gendry."

"_Gendry_? That's not a terribly regal name."

"He's not royalty, stupid. He's just... Gendry."

Sansa turned her head to study Arya's face for a moment before she smiled her pretty smile.

"You _kissed_ him, didn't you?"

Arya felt a blush creep up into her cheeks and she pulled her arm away from Sansa hastily.

"It's none of your business who I kiss."

"You did! You kissed him! Ooh, that's positively wicked. What if father found out?"

"You won't tell him. You _can't_."

"No, don't be silly. I won't tell him. Who am I to get in the way of love?"

"It's not _love_, you stupid."

Sansa only laughed softly and walked quietly beside Arya, until they were in the room where their tutor waited to give them their lessons. Arya took her seat and opened her textbook, but her thoughts were far from the maths problems before her. With thoughts of Gendry and the smooth muscles of his chest, Arya muddled through her lessons and thought of an excuse to go back to his apartment as soon as possible.


	4. Blue Eyes

**A/N: Hey guys! I do realize this is a day (or two) late- my husband gave me the flu, so I've been really sick. I'm better now, and hopefully you can forgive me because this chapter is extra long. The first third of the chapter is Gendry's pov, but the rest is Arya. Ok, enjoy, and remember to review!**

_"Wait, Arya, we shouldn't be-"_

_"Shut up, you stupid."_

_Gendry furrowed his eyebrows, hesitantly letting Arya push him back against the wall of his bathroom. With a wiggle of her hips, Arya's loose pajama bottoms fell to her ankles, leaving her in only a thin white tank top and her black underwear. She stood up on her toes and pressed her lips against Gendry's. Her hands ran down his bare chest then, to the waistband of his boxers, and then-_

_"Oh Gods, Arya."_

_A wicked laugh escaped her lips and she pulled her hands away, grasping the hem of her tanktop while she threw Gendry a sultry smile. Slowly, she pulled the fabric up over her head and let it drop to the floor beside her. _

_"Seven hells."_

_Gendry swallowed hard as he tentatively ran his eyes down from her face, to her neck, her prominent collarbone- the skin there was covered in goosebumps; was it cold? Gendry let his eyes roam slightly further down to find that Arya hadn't been wearing a bra. She crushed her lips against his again, pressing her chest against his own. Every ounce of resistance left Gendry then, at the feeling of her smooth skin against his chest. It was chilly in the room, but Gendry's skin felt like it was on fire everywhere she touched. Her lips left his then, and Arya crossed the short distance to the shower. She reached in, turning the knob to start a stream of hot water. _

_"What are you..."_

_Arya glanced back over her shoulder, giving Gendry a wicked smile before she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down. She shimmied her hips and the garment fell to the floor, and she slowly stepped out of them and into the shower. Steam rose around her body, veiling her naked form. Gendry took a step towards her, hastily shoving his boxers off as he went. Forget waiting, he needed her, right then and there. He kicked his boxers away and stepped into the shower, letting the water scald his skin. He wrapped his arms around Arya's waist, pulling her against his body. A soft moan escaped her lips, and Gendry-_

"Gen?"

_Fuck_.

Gendry's eyes flew open to meet an identical set, save for the thick ring of black eyeliner around them.

"Seven fucking hells, Bella, what the fu-"

"Having a nice dream?"

Bella smirked at Gendry, taking a step back from the bed. Flushing, Gendry sat up and pulled the pillow he'd been resting on into his lap.

"What do you want?"

"You're going to be late for work. _Again._"

"What time is it?"

"Nearly ten."

_Fuck_.

"Alright, I'm up. Leave."

"Better take a cold shower for that," Bella nodded towards the pillow covering his lap and smirked, turning on her heels and leaving the room. Gendry brought his hands up to rub his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, knocking the pillow and his blankets onto the floor. He crossed the room to his dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of boxers. He turned and walked back towards his bed, boxers in hand, and picked his phone up off the floor. He pressed his thumb against a button and the small screen jumped to live with a message that he had a missed call from Arya. Despite himself, Gendry's heart jumped into his throat like he was a twelve year old girl getting a note from her crush in class. Gendry hit a button and brought the phone up to his ear, trapping it between his cheek and shoulder.

"Hello?"

"Arya, hey. Sorry, I woke up late. What's up?"

"What are you doing right now?"

Gendry hesitated. Was she crying?

_Don't be stupid, Arya doesn't cry._

"Uhm... why, what do you need?"

"Er, would you possibly be able to come get me? I-... I really need a... ride."

_There goes my job._

"Give me like... two minutes to take a quick shower. Text me where you are, I'll be right there, ok?"

"Thanks."

The line went dead then, and Gendry found himself staring dumbly at his phone. Quickly, he dropped the phone and spun on the balls of his feet, making a mad dash for the bathroom. The hallway was empty, though he could hear Ed and Bella talking, and the tv playing in the living room. Gendry closed the bathroom door behind him and stepped out of his dirty boxers, jumping into the shower before he turned it on. With a turn of the knob, icy water poured down on him. Gendry yelped, jumping out of the path of the water, pressing his back against the tile wall. Gendry turned the water as hot as the dial allowed, but the water pouring out didn't get any warmer. With a curse, Gendry plunged himself into the icy water, shivers racking his body as he scrubbed his hair and skin with soap. As soon as the soap was off his skin, Gendry shut the water off and hopped out, grabbed a towel from the shelf, and wrapped himself up in the rough fabric. Gendry secured the towel around his waist and jerkily pulled his toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste out of the cabinet. As quickly as he could, Gendry spread the toothpaste on the brush, scrubbed his teeth, and rinsed his mouth out.

"Gen, someone's ringing you!"

"Shit, hold on, be right there."

Gendry dropped his towel and pulled his boxers on before he opened the bathroom door. Bella held his phone out to him, and Gendry snatched it up and pressed the accept call button.

"Arya, what's wrong?"

"Change of plans, be outside your door in thirty seconds."

The line went dead then, and Gendry found Bella staring at him incredulously.

"What was that about?"

"Move."

Gendry shoved her aside roughly, making from the front door. He pulled it open just as Arya bounded up the steps and into the apartment. Without saying a word, she closed the door carefully behind her and turned the lock. She turned to Gendry then, holding a finger to her lips as an indication to be quiet, before she turned and pressed her ear to the door. For what felt like an eternity, no one moved. Gendry couldn't hear anything, but Arya must have, because she tensed up for a few moments. After another minute, she relaxed and moved away from the door, turning towards Gendry. For the first time, Gendry took a moment to look her over. Her hair was braided back carefully, pins decorated with pearls securing the loose and unruly strands. She wore a white dress of Myrish lace with pearl detailing. The hem of the dress ended at Arya's kneecaps, and she wore white heels that made Arya almost even height with Gendry.

"Shit, Arya, what-"

Suddenly, Edric was at Gendry's side, mouth hanging open stupidly.

"Is that-"

"Don't. Don't ask, ok? Please don't ask me that."

Arya held a hand up to silence the boy, showing a delicate pearl bracelet around her thin wrist.

"Don't ask _what_, Arya?"

"Nothing. I just... needed a place to hide for a minute to lose them. I only wanted some fresh air, _alone_, but no one understands that, do they? So they just _had_ to come chasing after me, and do you have any idea how difficult it is to run in high heels? Because it's really difficult. And-"

"Arya, take a deep breath. What happened?"

Gendry watched as Arya's steely grey eyes darted around the apartment, wary as they always were.

"I should go now."

"Arya, _wait_."

Before he could stop her, Arya had turned and pulled the door open, disappearing in a whirl of skirts and perfume.

"Shit, Ed, go in my room fast and grab me clothes. _Hurry._"

Genry ran out the door after Arya, catching her at the landing just below them. Normally, he never would have caught her, but he had the advantage in this race.

"Let me _go,_ you stupid! You don't understand, you could never understand."

"Then explain, Arya! Gods, you owe me that much after barging in like that."

"I don't owe you _anything_."

Arya's voice was dripping with so much venom that Gendry recoiled from her, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

"I don't. Now go back into your apartment, and get clothes on, and go about your day. I have apologies to make."

Arya sniffed then, inclining her head slightly and squaring her shoulders before she turned and swept with a newfound air of dignity from the dingy stairwell. Gendry sighed, watching her go for a moment before he turned and climbed the flight of stairs to his apartment.

"Gendry, I got-"

"Go back inside, Ed."

"How do you know her...?"

"Why? Who is she?"

Edric narrowed his eyes at Gendry, cocking his head to the side.

"You don't know?"

"Should I?"

"I-"

"Forget it. I'm going to be late for work, and I'm already late on rent as it is."

Gendry pulled the bundle of cloth from Edric's hands and sulked into the apartment, pulling the shirt over his head as he went.

"That your girlfriend?"

"Shut up, Bella."

Gendry heard Edric close the front door behind him as he stepped into his trousers and pulled them up.

"Well, is she?"

"No,"

Gendry ignored the eyes glued to him as he stepped into his boots, pulled a key from the hook on the wall, on and pulled the door open again.

"I'll grab dinner on the way home, ok? Be good for Bella."

Without waiting for a response, Gendry pulled the door shut behind him and sprinted down the stairs. He needed to run, feel his muscles screaming in protest, feel his lungs burning. He needed to punch something. Gendry took a deep breath, and slowed himself to a walk as he busted through the front door of the apartment complex. Grown ups don't shirk their responsibilities for a mid day jog. A gust of warm air hit Gendry's face, bringing with it the smell of day old rubbish and a medley of smells from the various food vendors on the street. With a sigh, Gendry turned and walked down the narrow alley between the apartment building and the Pentoshi diner next to it. He broke free of the confinement of the alley into the small parking lot reserved for residents of the apartment building. Gendry walked brusquely to a small grey car with chipping paint and a dent on the right side, unlocked it, and got in. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of heavy perfume, sex, and smoke. He knew better to complain, though. This was Bella's car, and she could do with it as she pleased. With a final sniff, Gendry turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life. In a daze, Gendry backed out of the parking lot and drove to the docks at Blackwater Bay.

"Gendry! You're fucking late!"

"Yeah, sorry, er... Girl... troubles..."

Gendry locked the car behind him, shoved the key into his pocket, and made his way towards the burly red-haired man yelling at him. The air smelled like salt and fish, but it was better and fresher than the air everywhere else in the city.

"Girl troubles! You? Ha!"

The man clapped a massive hand on Gendry's shoulder, jostling him and making his teeth snap together painfully.

"Get to work, lad."

Gendry bit back the urge to curse at the man, who was double his size, and chose instead to turn and walk towards the stacks of crates waiting to be loaded onto a cargo ship. Various different people greeted him in their own way, with subtle nods or the occasional smile. They weren't the most talkative group, and Gendry was thankful for that. For a few hours a day, Gendry could lose himself in mind-numbing manual labour. Though most days he found peace on the docks, that particular day was filled with thoughts of Arya walking away from him.

_What was her problem? She was acting crazy. What did I do to her? And damn, that dress. It looked like it cost more than a years worth of rent. She was wearing fucking pearls in her hair in a city where mothers sell their wedding jewelry to feed their children. When Ed asked her a question she took off like a cat who'd been dropped into water. Who the hell is she?_

"Hey, mate."

Gendry jumped so hard that he nearly dropped a crate on his feet. Damien stood next to him, pulling black fingerless gloves onto his hands.

"You alright there?"

"Fine."

Gendry adjusted his grip on the box, shifting the weight between his hands.

"Alright then. Not one to pry. Missed you at the gym this morning."

"Was Arya there?"

"Your little minx? No, she wasn't there. Was she s'posed to be?"

"I was just wondering."

Gendry walked away from Damien, hoping to put an end to the conversation. A pang of frustration hit when he heard the boys heavy footsteps behind him.

"So, I seen your little minx on the news yesterday."

"Arya? Why?"

"Dunno, I just caught a glance as I was leaving the house. The reporter was saying some name, fuck if I remember though. Something about the North."

"D'you think she's some politicians daughter or something?"

"Her? How many politicians daughters do you know that can knock a grown man out?"

"None," Gendry admitted, shifting the weight of the box in his hands. "but why would _she_ be on the news?"

"I already said, I dunno."

Gendry carefully set the box down inside a large metal crate that would be lifted by crane into the cargo ship. He turned towards Damien then, wiping his hands off on his thighs.

"Have you done 'er yet?"

"What? No, shut up."

Damien threw back his head and laughed, running after Gendry as he scowled and stomped back towards the boxes waiting to be loaded.

"What is it, don't know where to put it?"

"I said shut up, Damien."

"Oh, leave off, you don't scare me."

For a moment, Gendry was sorely tempted to turn around and punch the boy in the face. Instead, he took a deep breath, conjured an image of the twins in his head, and kept walking. Behind him, Damien chuckled softly as he turned and set of to his own work. Finally, Gendry might find the peace he needed.

"There, doesn't that look nice?"

Arya stared blankly at the reflection of the man standing behind her, wanting very much to show him how _nice_ her foot would look shoved up his arse. Arya opened her mouth to speak, but a sharp look from her mother next to her silenced her.

"You look lovely, Arya. Go get dressed now, I'll send Sophie in to help you."

"I know how to dress myself, mother."

"I'll send her all the same. Your dress and shoes are laid out for you, try not to muss your hair up."

Arya turned towards her mother, who was sitting prettily on a little white love seat, waiting while Sansa's hair was being done. Her mother was the picture of elegance, as always, with her dark auburn hair braided intricately back into a knot at the base of her neck. Her gown was midnight black with little glints of dark gems Arya couldn't identify. Slowly, Arya rose from her chair and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had been curled delicately, pinned back in all the right places. Her lips were a dark pink, her eyes painted in greys and blacks and blues. She wore only a grey silk dressing gown that stopped at her knees and was secured with a shock of red ribbon about her waist.

"Go, now. You'll never be ready in time with the way you dawdle."

Arya turned her back to her mother and started towards the exit, only then changing a roll of her eyes and a little sigh. The wing of the palace the Starks were staying in had been closed off to all but the most important of visitors, so Arya walked freely out into the hallway, her bare feet padding along the cool marble floor. The door to her room hung open, showing the short blonde girl standing patiently in the center of the room.

"Princess,"

The girl bowed deeply, the strands of golden hair that had escaped from her bun flying as she moved.

"Sophie, how many times have I told you not to do that?"

The girl stood up straight as Arya kicked the door shut behind her and untied the ribbon around her waist.

"Of course. My apologies, Princess Arya."

"Just Arya," Arya winced at the title, as she always did, "just Arya is fine."

"Of course."

Arya sighed and let her robe fall to the floor as Sophie crossed the room and got Arya's gown out of the garment bag. Arya took a breath and stared out the window as Sophie helped Arya into her undergarments, laced her up, and then helped her into her dress.

"There, all done. Your shoes right at the edge of your bed, Pr-... Arya."

"Ok, thanks, Sophie. You can go... do whatever. Help Sansa or whatever."

The girl bowed again and ducked from the room, closing the door softly behind her. Arya sighed, tugging at the fabric of the gown as she moved to stand in front of her mirror. The dress in itself was beautiful, befitting of a queen. The neckline was cut low, leaving a sliver of her chest bare. Glittering diamonds accented the dress, making Arya sparkle whenever she turned. Sophie had fastened a delicate diamond bracelet around Arya's wrist and instructed her to pick a necklace out, so Arya turned away from her reflection and walked to her dresser.

"Arya?"

A knock sounded at her door, but Arya barely turned her head to the sound. She flipped open the lid of her jewelry box, peering inside.

"Come in."

The door opened behind her, closing softly a moment later.

"Hey. You look nice."

Arya turned then, frowning at her dashing brother Jon, clad in a black suit with his hair tamed down nicely.

"Shut up."

Jon chuckled, walking over to Arya. He placed his hands on her shoulders, walking her over to her mirror to stand squarely behind her.

"I have something for you."

"What is it?"

"An early name day present."

Arya eyed Jon curiously as he pulled something sparkling from his pocket. Carefully, Jon draped a delicate silver chain around her neck and fastened it behind her. Hanging from the chain was their family symbol, a snarling direwolf's head.

"Jon, it's..."

"Don't worry, jewelry's not the only thing I got you... But It's better than the dove Sansa wanted me to have made."

"No, it's perfect."

Arya brought a hand up to feel the cool stones of the direwolf, a small smile pulling at her lips. Behind her, Jon laughed.

"May I have the honour of walking you to the ballroom, my lady?"

He bowed slightly, extending his hand towards her. Arya laughed and shook her head, turning over her shoulder to take Jon's hand.

"Shut up and walk, stupid."

Jon grinned at her as he linked offered his arm, and Arya took it. Casually, he walked her out of her room and past the guards at the end of the hallway.

"So I heard dad and King Robert arguing this morning, in Robert's office."

Arya turned her head towards Jon, studying the grim set of his jaw.

"About what?"

Jon lowered his voice to just above a whisper, "Sansa."

"Sansa? Why would-"

"Shh."

Jon's fingers dug into Arya's arm painfully, silencing her just as Queen Cersei and her twin brother rounded a corner. Instantly, a smile spread across the queens face, so fake that Arya barely bit back a chuckle. The queen was looking particularly regal, in a long flowing crimson gown with her golden curls flowing freely down her back. Her bother next to her was no less gallant, in his white suit and matching blonde locks. His arm was draped loosely around his twins waist, holding her close to his side.

"Princess Arya, Prince Jon, how lovely to see you. Shall we walk together to the ballroom?"

Before Arya could open her mouth to retort, Jon smiled and politely accepted her request, stepping aside so they could lead the way. For a moment, only the sounds of heels on marble floor were the only sounds to fill the hallways.

"Arya, you look lovely tonight."

"Thank you."

Arya ground the words out through clenched teeth, eliciting a squeeze on her arm from Jon.

"That pendant is stunning."

"It was a name day present."

"Oh, is it your name day?"

"Next week."

"Oh, how exciting. Will you be back home in time to celebrate?"

"No, your grace."

"What a shame. No matter, I'm sure we can arrange something to celebrate here."

Arya hummed in agreement reluctantly, staring sullenly at the floor. Her own plans for her name day included Gendry, pepperoni pizza, and old black and white horror films.

"Cersei, I'm sure the girl will want to spend time with her family... I understand they do things a little less... extravagantly in the North than we do down here."

Jaime threw Arya a dazzling smile before giving Cersei a smaller, more playful one. The queen scoffed at her brothers statements, but Arya was spared from scrambling for a response when they met with Robb, Eddard, King Robert, and a young man Arya didn't recognize outside of the massive crystal doors to the ballroom. The young man was facing the doors, so Arya could only see half of his face at first. His hair was pitch black, just the same as Roberts, and his face was handsome from what she could tell.

"Ah, there you lot are."

Robert's voice was booming, echoing through the hallway as it always did. The young man at his side turned to face them then, giving a small, polite smile.

"Shit."

The young man was easily the best dressed out of the men. He wore a designer suit that was fit to his tall, lean body perfectly. His hands were placed casually into his pockets, though her drew them out and spread his fingers, palms outward, when Arya cursed. None of these things were what caused her outburst. His face was sickeningly familiar, and it took only a fraction of a second for Arya to realize where she had seen those piercing blue eyes and stubborn jaw line.

"Arya."

Her fathers sharp reprimand brought her back to reality, and Arya realized she was staring openly at the man. The man smiled easily at her, letting his hands drop to his sides.

"I know, I'm the most handsome man you've ever seen."

"Wh-... No, I-... Er..."

The man laughed then, as did Robert beside him. Robert clapped a hand on the mans shoulder and grinned at Arya.

"This is Renly, my younger brother. Stannis couldn't make it, but no one's really going to miss his foul moods."

Numbly, Arya held her hand out to Renly, who gracefully bowed down and kissed it. He stood straight then, fixing Arya with a curious smirk. Arya felt Jon squeeze her arm, and realized she was staring again.

"Right, well, I'd better go find my wife."

The other men muttered agreeably at Renly, who gave Arya one last smile before he turned and walked from the group. Arya saw her father about to speak, but she couldn't focus on a conversation at that moment. She needed air, and quick. In a daze, she pulled her arm from Jon's and spun quickly on her heels. She fought the urge to run, settling instead for a brusque walk as she heard Jon make to follow her.

"No, you go in. I'll handle this."

_Dammit._

Arya knew better than to run from her father, so instead she turned and ducked into an empty hallway, and paced for a moment until her father caught up with her.

"Arya."

Arya glanced over to the opening to the main hall, where her father was quickly approaching her.

"I'm sorry."

"What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"Arya."

Eddard closed the distance then, putting a hand on her shoulder. His grey eyes were weary, but there was no other indication of him being upset.

"It was nothing, really. Renly just... reminded me of... someone."

"Really." His voice was bone dry and cold as ice. "Who?"

"No one. Just a boy."

"_What_ boy?"

"No one, dad, really."

Arya forced an unconvincing smile and adjusted the skirts of her dress.

"Who is this boy? What's his name? Where did you meet him? Where is he from?"

"Father, it's no one."

"Arya Stark, you will tell me this instant, or I will get your mother, and we will return to my office. Either way, I will have the truth."

Arya grimaced at him, knowing at once she was fighting for a lost cause.

"He's just a boy I met kickboxing."

"The gym in the city you snuck out to?"

Arya nodded slightly, bringing a hand up to toy with her wolfs head pendant.

"What's his name? Where does he live? Did he hurt you?"

"Father."

"Arya, this is serious. You can't go sneaking off with every boy you meet. Especially in this city. You are Arya Stark of Winterfell, Princess of the North. You _must_ be careful."

"I _am_ careful. Gendry would never hurt me. Besides, I could beat him in a fight if I had to."

"Gendry."

Arya bit her lip and nodded slightly again. Eddard furrowed his brows, deepening the wrinkles on his forehead. Recognition flashed across his face for a moment, and then he smoothed his features down.

"You will not see this boy again."

"But-"

"Am I understood?"

"Father, that-"

"Arya."

His voice was soft and sharp and deadly, and Arya was defeated, just like that.

"He looks _just_ like Renly. They could be twins, or brothers at the least."

"You will not mention this again. We're only in King's Landing another week. Surely you can find something within the palace walls to entertain you for a week. After that, we'll be home... But until then, you will not see this boy, nor will you mention him to anyone else. Yes?"

_See with your eyes, Arya._

"Yes."

Eddard took a deep breath and nodded as he adjusted his jacket.

"Good."

Eddard turned then, walking back towards the ballroom, with Arya in tow. The guests had all arrived by then, the hosts entered and started their speeches. Arya and Eddard slipped in unnoticed to take their seats at the long table at the front of the ballroom. applause erupted as Robert finished up his speech and raised his wine glass for a toast. Arya perched herself on the edge of her seat and took a sip of the sour red wine before them. The Stark children were seated by age, putting Arya between Sansa and Bran. Dinner went on with silence from the both of them, for which Arya was grateful. Dinner ended, though, and music drifted through the air, drawing the guests onto the dance floor in pairs.

"My lady, might I have this dance?"

Arya's eyes flitted up, to see who had asked Sansa to dance. Only, it was Renly who had asked, and he was looking Arya dead in the eyes.

"Oh, er-... Ok."

Sansa shot Arya a mortified look, and Arya rose unsteadily to her feet. She awkwardly turned and walked to the end of the table and back around the front, where Renly offered her his arm. Numbly, she linked her arms with his and was swept off to the dance floor. Renly was more graceful than she would have thought possible as he placed a hand on her hip and laced the other with hers, waltzing slowly to the music.

"I must say, your outburst earlier intrigued me."

Arya swallowed hard and vowed to keep her cool. She threw him a coy smile that she had seen other women give and cocked her head to the side.

"It's just, you're the most handsome man I've ever seen."

Renly threw his head back and laughed, a sound near as sweet as the music itself. He captured Arya with his smiling blue eyes, pinning her in place.

"I'm afraid I'm quite taken, though you do flatter me so."

Arya rolled her eyes then and studied his face, noting every minute detail.

"I'm sorry about it, you just... You reminded me of someone."

"Really now? Who would that be? I was so certain I was the only man this handsome."

Arya smiled a little.

"You're considerably more handsome than him, yes."

"Of course."

"But only because you're better dressed."

"You wound my pride, my lady."

"It's Arya."

"Arya." He consented, inclining his head slightly.

"Really, it was nothing."

"Mm. You'll need to become better at lying if you want to hide anything of value in this city."

Arya looked at Renly, meeting his blue eyes. For a moment, she felt like she were staring into Gendry's eyes, with his big rough hands on her, and his feet moving with hers. But Gendry wasn't nearly as graceful.

"He's a friend."

"A _close_ friend?"

Arya flushed, despite herself.

"No, just a friend."

Renly gave her a smug, knowing smile.

"Why didn't you bring him with you tonight?"

"Him? He's, er-..."

"What, poor?"

Arya didn't give Renly an answer, only moved with him the best she could to the music. The song ended then, and a younger man nearly as handsome as Renly approached. His light blonde curls fell to his shoulder, and his features were pure and innocent, feminine even. He laid a hand on Renly's arm almost tenderly, and said something so softly Arya could not hear. Concern flashed across Renly's face for a fraction of a second, before he composed himself and smiled at Arya.

"It would seem I'm needed elsewhere. Have a lovely evening, Arya."

Arya only nodded slightly as Renly turned to leave. He took two steps before he paused, and turned back towards Arya like he had forgotten something important.

"And, if I may offer a bit of advice, Arya?"

Arya inclined her head slightly to signal that he should continue.

"Go see him. Now, if you have to. This place... this isn't the place for you to be tonight."

Something about the way Renly's eyes bore into hers made Arya's stomach churn.

_See with your eyes._

"My fathe-"

"Have a pleasant evening, Princess Arya."

With that, Renly turned and walked away, flanked by the handsome younger man. Suddenly, Arya felt like the walls were closing in on her. A bead of sweat tricked down her chest and between her breasts, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest. Arya took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

_Fear cuts deeper than swords._

Arya glanced around her, taking in her surroundings. The easiest way to leave the room would be through the main doors. With a nod, Arya turned and walked back towards the long table, wiping her sweaty palms against her slick silk skirts. As she approached, her mother looked up and a frown crossed her face.

"Arya, what's the matter?"

"I don't... Fell so well."

Catelyn nodded slightly, setting her wine glass down.

"Shall I walk you back to your room?"

Eddard cleared his throat beside her and shook his head. With a subtle hand motion, a member of her father's personal guard stepped forward.

"Jory, walk Arya to her rooms."

Jory nodded then, and looped around the table to stand behind Arya.

"You've probably had too much to drink, that's all. Go lie down and rest."

Arya nodded slightly at her parents before she turned and walked shakily towards the massive doors to the ballroom. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and the air felt heavy in the crowded room. The servants at the door silently pulled the doors open, and Arya stepped out quickly into the cool air of the hallway. Jory followed at a respectable distance, constantly alert and glancing around the empty hallway. Arya walked brusquely to her room, giving Jory a small smile before she closed and locked the door behind her. Before she could even appreciate being alone, Arya pulled at the fabric of her dress, tugging it down until it fell around her ankles. She stepped out of her shoes and the dress, and walked to the closet in her underwear. Hastily, Arya pulled a plain black tee shirt and worn old jeans out of the drawers. She stepped into the jeans and yanked them up before she pulled the tee shirt over her head. Before Arya left the closet she grabbed a pair of socks and her worn black trainers. Arya didn't bother letting her hair down or scrubbing her face clean. She only shoved her feet into the socks and shoes, and pulled a grey sweatshirt that used to be Jons over her head. She left the hood up and crossed the room to her window, throwing it open. Most of the guards were watching for people entering the palace, not people leaving, so Arya hopped down from her window to a lower roof, and then to the ground, and escaped without much trouble. Too late, Arya realized that her phone was sitting in her room in the palace. Without any money or her phone, Arya had no choice but to turn in the general direction of Flea Bottom, and run. The burn in her muscles felt good, better than anything she had felt that night. Back home, she ran every morning. Sansa had openly expressed her disdain for the routine, but she didn't understand. In Winterfell, the air was crisp and clean and freezing cold in the mornings, and when you ran through it you felt like you were flying. The air in King's Landing was thick with smut and stink, though, and Arya felt more like she was swimming through a marsh as she jogged through the crowded streets. Arya had mapped the city out, marking places she could hide or run if need be, so finding Gendry's apartment building wasn't overly difficult. With some effort, she remembered the number of his apartment and climbed the stairs, chest heaving from her run. She brought a hand up and knocked, and waited.

"Arya?"

The door swung open, revealing Gendry standing before her in his boxers, with an ice pack held to his left shoulder.

"Hi."

Arya felt the weight of the wolf's head pendant against her chest suddenly, and realized she had forgotten to take it off.

"What... Um, what are you doing here?"

Arya glanced inside the apartment and noticed that all the lights were off.

"I... Can I stay here tonight?"

"Oh, er, yeah, of course."

Gendry stepped aside then, allowing Arya to enter the apartment with a bewildered expression on his face.

"So, you look... nice..."

Gendry shut the door behind him, and Arya ignored his remark. She turned to look at Gendry, studying his face carefully.

"Gendry... what do you know about your father?"


	5. The Beach

**A/N: Hi there- I've missed you. Funny story. I had this done on Friday, but it took me forever to edit it, because I do this thing where I have to talk myself out of scrapping the whole chapter and starting over multiple times. No joke, I need to find a beta reader crazy enough to tolerate me. Anyway, it's here now. Remember to review!**

"Can I get you a drink, sweetling?"

"You can get my foot up your arse if you're lucky."

The air around the man was thick with sweet cologne that made Arya's eyes burn. His thinning brown hair was slicked back against his shiny head, lending no help to his round, lumpy face. The man sneered at her and opened his mouth to speak again, but his bulging eyes flitted up suddenly and his mouth closed. A moment later, Arya felt an arm wrap around her waist, warm and comforting.

"Piss off."

"I had it under control, Gendry."

"Believe me, I know. I interfered for his sake. I have our drinks."

Arya turned towards Gendry, turning her back to the portly man. Gendry's blue eyes flickered and danced in the dim light of the pub, and he held a glass bottle of beer out to Arya. She took the bottle, fighting back a shiver at the cool condensation against the skin of her palm.

"Thanks. Er, you wanna play pool or something?"

"Oh, sure. Let me go see if there's an open table."

Gendry took a sip of his own drink and walked away, leaving Arya by herself. She leaned back against the wooden bar, taking a small sip of the beer. It tasted thin and watery and sour, but she needed something to keep her hands busy.

_"Gendry, what do you know about your father?"_

_"Wha... What?"_

_"Your father... I mean, I never really asked about your family or anything. I was just, ah, curious."_

_"I..."_

_"Nevermind, that was stupid to ask."_

_"No, uhm... My mum died when I was little, my father abandoned us long before I was born."_

_Arya nodded slightly, wringing her fingers out._

_"What'd you do to your shoulder?"_

_"Nothing, just pulled a muscle at work."_

_"Oh..."_

_Gendry brought his hand away from his shoulder, the ice pack with it._

_"Uhm, I'm a little too wired to sleep yet. It's only like ten... Do you want to go do something?"_

_"Er... There's a pub down the road...?"_

_"Yeah, sure, let's go there."_

_"Ok, sure... Just let me put clothes on."_

_Gendry turned and started towards his room, but paused and turned back to Arya then, studying her face._

_"You should take that out of your hair, though."_

_Arya blinked, raising a hand to her hair before she remembered the diamonds in her hair. She ripped them out and held them out to him._

_"Give them to your little sister."_

_Gendry looked at her hand, but made no move to take them. Instead, he turned and disappeared behind his door. Arya put them down on the coffee table, ran a hand through her hair, and waited. _

"There's a... hey, you ok?"

Arya's eyes flew open to find Gendry standing before her, so she forced a smile and nodded. She pushed off the bar and walked to his side, taking his hand carefully.

"Yeah, there's a free table?"

"Yeah."

"Great. Let's go."

Gendry gave her an uncertain smile, and walked her through the crowd of people to get to the green felt pool tables. Dim, flickering lights were suspended over the table, throwing shadows on the floors at odd angles.

"Oi, look here. The bulls gone and got 'imself a girl!"

Gendry's grip tightened on Arya's hand, making her bite back a flinch at his strength. The man who had called out to Gendry was at the next pool table over, leaning back on the splintered wood of the table. His dirty blonde curls were disheveled, hanging limply about his gaunt, freckled face. Judging by how thin and lanky he was, he was in no position to be picking a fight with Gendry. Before Arya could ask who he was, she felt Gendry's mouth against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

"Ignore him. You know what they say about feeding the animals."

Arya smiled a little, and felt Gendry's lips curl up into a smile against her skin for a moment before he retreated and let go of her hand to pick out a pool cue. Arya trailed behind, eyeing the long, slender sticks as he walked. Most of them were as tall as she was, and would be incredibly impractical. She settled for the shortest cue they had, and carefully rubbed powdery blue chalk on the tip.

"Do you know how to play?"

Arya closed her eyes for a moment, and allowed herself to indulge in a memory of home.

_"There! Fucking brilliant, Arya."_

_Arya beamed, placing the butt of the pool cue on the ground with a soft thud. Theon reached across the table to ruffle her hair briefly before he took his shot._

_"Soon I'll be teaching you how to hustle like a proper little thief."_

_"Hustle?"_

_Theon glanced up, a mischievous smile on his face._

_"How old are you again?"_

_"I'll be thirteen in a month. Practically a grown up."_

_"Well, I guess that's old enough... But you have to promise not to tell your dad, or your mum, ok?"_

_"Promise."_

_Just the thought of having to hide something from her parents made Arya's pulse race back then. Adventure was hard to come by when you were confined to a secured, gated, five star prison. Silently, she cursed herself for not asking Theon earlier. As their foster brother, he was commonly overlooked by the press, and allowed a great deal more leniance than the other Stark children._

_"The trick is to play dumb. Act like you don't really know what you're doing the first game... Just play for fun, but throw the game."_

_"Why would I do that?"_

_"Because, someone will think they can make quick money off of you, and they'll eventually want to play for money. And then..."_

_Theon took a second shot, sending the white cue ball to a cluser of solid coloured ones, sinking two from the resulting collision._

_"Then, you clean up, and you take your money."_

"A little," Arya admitted, walking closer to the table.

"Do you want to break, or should I?"

"You go ahead."

Arya set her drink down on a coaster after taking a final sip, and settled back to watch Gendry. Almost clumsily, he lined his cue up and took his shot, breaking the neat formation of pool balls, but failing to sink any of them. Arya bit back a snort and moved to take her shot. She hit her target, but at a skewed angle so it missed the pocket.

"You sure you know how to play?"

Arya rolled her eyes and smiled sweetly at Gendry, stepping back to allow him his turn. Gendry only smiled and shrugged, and took his shot. The game went on, with Arya making the least amount of her shots as possible. Gendry grew clumsy with confidence, but Arya let him win. The blonde-haired boy had been watching, laughing every time Arya missed her shot. But Arya would only smile sweetly at them all and shrug her shoulders and play dumb. Before long, some of the boys had offered to play her for money.

"Arya, don't-"

"I can handle myself, Gendry. Can you go get me another drink please? Something stronger, I think."

Gendry frowned at her, clearly indignant at being made into a servant, but he turned and went to get them drinks all the same, and Arya accepted her first bet. The man who she would play against was tall and thick, with corded muscle visible beneath his white tee shirt. They agreed on a set amount of money- of which Arya had none, and the game began. Arya started off as she had the last game, weak and inconsistent. When the man let his guard down, Arya smiled sweetly at him, blew him a kiss, and then dominated the table. A crowd of people gathered around, cheering for her with each shot she sunk. As Arya called and sunk and eight ball, winning the game, the people erupted into applause and Arya looked up. There was Gendry, standing at the edge of the crowd, with his mouth hanging open and his blue eyes wide.

"You played me."

Arya turned her attention back to the man and shrugged.

"_You're_ the one who wanted to bet me that much money. Cough it up."

Grudgingly, the man threw the money on the table and sulked away. Arya quickly collected it and shoved it into her pocket before she made her way over to Gendry, and took her drink from him.

"You wanna get out of here? I'm getting tired."

"I-... you-... how...?"

Arya only smiled and watched Gendry's face, relishing the pounding of her heart that always came with adventure. She imagined what her mother would say if she knew where she was.

"Do you want to leave or not?"

"Er... sure, I guess..."

Arya looked down at her drink- a short, chipped glass filled with amber liquid. After only a moment's hesitation, she brought the glass up to her lips and knocked it back, fighting back the urge to cough as the liquid fire burned down her throat. Silently, she handed the glass back to Gendry, and made her way to the exit of the bar. Behind her, she could hear Gendry scrambling to return the glasses and catch her. The alcohol had made her bold, and Arya walked out into the warm night air with a grin on her face. Without waiting for Gendry to catch up, Arya turned and started down the street.

"Arya! Oi, wait up, will you?."

Gendry's footsteps echoed off the pavement, loud and clumsy in the peaceful night air. Arya let a smile tug at her lips as she shrugged her shoulders, turning her face up to bathe it in the pale moonlight.

"Walk faster."

Arya glanced back over her shoulder, shooting Gendry a playful smile before she turned her head back and took off running. The wind whipped at her face, sending her short strands of hair flying about her face as she tore through the night. With the pale light of the stars on her skin and the summer air blowing through her hair, Arya felt like she was flying, as free as a bird.

_No, as free as a wolf, running through the forest._

The thought brought a smile to her lips as her chest heaved and warm air filled her lungs in ragged breaths.

"Oi! Arya!"

Laughter bubbled up and seeped through Arya's lips, growing stronger as she got closer to the looming brick building that was their destination. She could hear Gendry huffing and puffing behind her, footsteps crashing down on the pavement like hammers, but he was no match for her. She was swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow. She was a wolf, and she was invincible. The apartment building came and passed, but Arya didn't slow. The apartment was set at the edge of Flea Bottom, so close to the waterfront that Arya could hear the waves breaking on the shore. Normally, she might have felt an ache in her legs and lungs by then, but nothing was going to slow her down. She wove through the narrow streets of flea bottom until they gave way to the wider streets at the waterfront, and she kept running until the buildings cleared and sand gave way under her feet. Chest heaving from the length of the run, Arya placed the toe of her trainer of the back of the other and kicked it off, repeating with the other until she could feel the cool sand squish between her toes. She turned back towards the city then, leaning forward to rest her palms on her knees. The city was sprawled out before her, lit only by a few twinkling street lights. Silence wrapped around Arya like a snake, broken only by the sound of the waves behind her. When Gendry's form swam into view, face red and chest heaving, Arya turned towards the ocean and let a smile spread across her face as she waited.

"What... are... you... doing?"

Gendry's voice was raspy and broken by gasps of air, and heat radiated off his body as he collapsed into the sand beside her. Arya smiled and shrugged slightly before she dropped into the sand beside him, running her fingers through the cool granules.

"I've never been on sand before. I've read about it and seen pictures and everything... But I've never been this close to the ocean."

"Really?"

Arya nodded slightly, scooping up sand in her cupped hands and letting it fall through her fingers again.

"Hey, you wanna play truth?"

"Truth...?"

Arya looked over at Gendry, knowing deep down she would regret this. The alcohol was speaking, though, so she continued.

"Yeah. I ask a question, you answer truthfully, no matter what. Then you ask, and it goes on. If you pass a question, and I answer the next one, I win... Or vise versa. If I pass too the game goes on."

Gendry studied Arya's face carefully before he nodded slightly and reached forward to unlace his leather workboots.

"What are the stakes?"

Arya watched as Gendry pulled his boots off, setting them beside him. He peeled his socks off then and stuffed them inside the boots before he dug his toes into the sand.

"We can pick the stakes for each other. You first."

"Alright..." Gendry flexed his feet, making sand spill over his toes. "If I win... You have to go on a proper date with me. Wherever I want. Before you go back home."

"Alright... And if _I_ win..." Arya raked her fingers through the sand, contemplating her options. "If I win you have to let me give you a gift. Whatever gift I decide."

Gendry turned to look at her incredulously, but after a moment extended his hand to her nonetheless. Arya reached over and shook his hand, a small smile tugging at her lips. She took a deep breath and instructed Gendry to ask the first question as she went back to drawing patterns with her fingers in the sand.

"Ok, er... Have you ever stolen anything?"

Arya snorted.

"No, don't be ridiculous... It's not stealing if they _give_ it to you. Would you rather live forever or die tomorrow?"

Arya glanced over to Gendry as he leaned back and rolled on his side to face Arya, propping his torso up with his elbow. A crease formed between his eyebrows, blue eyes troubled.

"My siblings need me." He said it matter-of-factly, like it was all the answer she could ever need. Arya inclined her head slightly in response and mirrored Gendry's pose, letting her elbow sink into the sand. "Where'd you get that necklace?"

Arya glanced down to see her wolf's head pendant was on the outside of her black tee shirt, glittering in the moonlight. She brought her free hand up to touch the pendant, the stones cool against her fingers.

"My brother Jon. As a name day present."

"Is it your name day?"

"Next week."

"Mm. Your question, then."

_Here goes nothing._

"Who's your father?"

Gendry turned his bright blue eyes on Arya, mouth parted slightly.

"I- I don't-"

"You have to answer. Or you can pass. But it'd be a shame to lose this early on."

Gendry furrowed his brows and laid back against the sand, folding his hands behind his head to look at the stars. For a few minutes, Arya watched the rise and fall of his chest in silence.

"What gave me away?"

"You... look a lot like the Duke of Highgarden. The king's brother. But... he's too young to be your father, and the older brother hasn't visited the city since before you were born... I guess it _could_ be Stannis, but the more likely answer is that it's King Robert. Which would explain how you manage to support all of your siblings on less than minimum wage. I'd say that he... sends a cheque in the mail every month but doesn't bother otherwise. His wife probably doesn't know about most of you..."

Silence fell over them again, and Arya knew she had been right. After a moment, Gendry sighed and turned his head slightly so he could look at Arya.

"How do you just... _know_ everything?"

Arya bit back a grin and shrugged at him.

"Have you ever met him? Your father, I mean."

"Uhm... once, briefly. A long time ago, when my brother Ed was a little baby. He was the only one he brought to us in person, so... I dunno. Must've been somebody important. Mya met him too."

"So he just... drops his children off at your doorstep and leaves them for you to take care of?"

"Pretty much."

Arya frowned, trying to imagine her own father doing something like that.

"That's ridiculous, though. What if you say no?"

"There's nowhere else for the kids to go. I'm sure he has more of them out there somewhere, but none of us have our mums, or anyone else who wants us. We just have each other. Anyway... my question." Gendry cleared his throat. "Er... What do your parents do for a living?"

"Oh, uhm... my father's in... politics. And my mum does work with various nonprofit organizations."

"Is that why you're here? Your father some kind of ambassador or something?"

"Something like that." Arya glanced over at him, thinking of a question to ask before he pried any more information from her. "Why don't you just demand more money from him? Your apartment is barely big enough to fit all of the kids, and I've seen your fridge. You could do with some more groceries."

"I don't..." Gendry brought his hands up to rub his eyes. "I don't _want _his money. I don't want nothing to do with him. I take his cheque every month, but only because if I didn't we'd be living on the streets. I don't want no more than I have to take. You don't understand because you have normal family."

Arya snorted at the notion of her family being normal.

"Anyway... Why a wolf's head? Is that important or something?"

Gendry motioned towards Arya's necklace, and she automatically covered it with the palm of her hand.

"It's-..." For a moment, Arya considered lying. He would never know. "It's the symbol of my country..."

"So? I don't go getting stags tattooed on my skin."

Arya glanced over at Gendry and sighed.

"Well maybe we have more national pride in the North."

Gendry snorted and rolled on his side to face Arya, propping his weight up once again on his elbow. There were only a few inchest between their faced when he laid like that, and Arya could practically feel the tension in the air.

"Is that a lie I smell?"

"I like wolves." Arya shrugged. "I think I relate to them."

Gendry threw back his head and laughed at that, the sound ringing through the quiet night air. Blood rushed to Arya's cheeks, hot and uncomfortable and embarrassing.

"Shut up."

"No, that's perfect. Arya, my little wolf."

"I'm not _little_."

"Yes you are. You're a curious little wolf."

"Shut _up_, Gendry. You're stupid. Why are you so stupid?"

"Is that your question?"

Gendry leaned forward a little, the tip of his nose brushing against Aryas. She flushed again, and inwardly cursed herself for her reaction. She didn't want to speak; her voice would betray her. So instead she leaned forward and crushed her lips against Gendry's, pushing him back against the sand in the process. Arya rolled and shifted her weight so she was lying on top of Gendry, knees digging into the sand and hands on either side of his head. If Gendry had any objections, he didn't voice them. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Arya's torso, placing his hands firmly on her back to keep her in place. Arya knew that it was a bad idea, but the alcohol had made her bold. Gendry's hands traveled down the length of her back, lingering at the top of her jeans for a moment before they slid under her shirt and ran back up, searing her skin where they rested along her spine. Suddenly Arya was desperate to feel his skin against hers, to have him as close to her as possible. She wiggled her hips slightly and Gendry loosened his grip on her back enough that Arya could pull her tee shirt up and over her head.

"Arya, are-"

"Shut up, ok? Just... Shut up."

And for once, Gendry obliged.

* * *

"Princess Stark! Oi, over here! I've found her!"

For a moment, the splitting pain in her head from the shouting was enough that Arya didn't notice anything wrong. She opened her eyes a crack, only to squint them shut at the violently bright sunlight. Why was it so bright? Her curtains should be closed. What was that sound? The ocean wasn't normally that loud from her room in the palace.

"Princess Stark, are you- oh my... Princess Stark? Are you alright?"

_Be quiet_, she wanted to tell them. _Can't you see I'm trying to sleep? Who let you into my room anyway?_

"Arya...? What the fuck..."

_Gendry?_

Arya's eyes flew open, straining to adjust to the sunlight. Her head pounded violently, and her mouth tasted like bile. When her vision returned slightly, Arya found herself staring into the face of Jory Casel, with the deserted beach as a backdrop.

_Oh, no. No no no no no._

Arya forced herself to sit up, and Jory's face flushed red for half a moment before Arya felt fabric being draped around her bare shoulders. Bare shoulders? Arya looked down at herself, and sure enough, the only clothing she had on her body was the jacket Jory had put around her shoulders.

"Arya, what the hell is going on?"

"Princess Arya, are you alright?"

Jory's eyes flitted over to Gendry, but Arya was too busy trying to fight the urge to spill the contents of her stomach to answer either of them.

"Princess Arya, I-..."

"What?"

Arya managed to croak out the word, but was punished with a sharp pang of pain from behind her eyes. Jory extended a hand to Arya, helping her rise to her feet. The jacket dwarfed Arya, coming to the middle of her thighs. With a shaky hand she held it closed.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Arya, what's going on? Why is he calling you princess? Who are these people?"

Arya held a hand up to silence Gendry and turned her attention to Jory, who had deep lines etched into his forehead as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Princess Arya, I-... There's been an..." Jory's eyes flitted towards Gendry, then back to Arya. "There's been an _incident_ involving King Eddard."

In an instant, Gendry was forgotten. Arya put her brave face on, lifted her chin slightly, and walked with all the dignity she could manage towards the black car waiting for her at the edge of the beach. Arya could hear Gendry calling out behind her, but if she turned and faced those big blue eyes for even a moment, Arya knew she would never be able to leave. Jory opened the car door for her and another guard handed her the clothing that had been lying in the sand, and Arya busied herself with getting dressed as the car pulled away from the scene.


	6. Homecoming

**A/N: Hey! Don't hit me! My baby's been in the hospital with the flu, and we only just got home last night. She's doing much better now, which is a massive relief. I had this done already, but I didn't get the chance to get it out until now. Also- I've been having tons of problems with this site recently, and I'd hate for something to happen to my stories that would make me lose all of my readers. I think I'm going to post updates on tumblr too- let me know what you guys think. Anyway, remember to review! **

"It is a tragedy for our two nations, as well as for myself. I lost a dear friend an ally, and-"

Arya felt her hands curl into fists, tasted metallic blood and anger where she bit through the soft flesh of her cheek. How dare he? Arya brought a fist forward, colliding into the wall in an explosion of plaster and blood. Her knuckles were split open and dripping red, hot blood on the floor, but she barely felt it. How _dare_ he? Arya brought her bloody, mangled fist up again and hit the wall, sending another shower of plaster and blood across the cold tile floor. A choked sob, inhuman and terrible, filled the small room. It took Arya a moment to realize that the sound came from her. Arya wanted desperately to cry- to feel the warm, salty tears running down her face so she could mourn properly. After a moment, she realised they weren't going to come. She hit the wall again, weakly this time, which only served to smear her blood along the ruined white surface. _You're stronger than this, Arya. Get yourself together._

"Arya?"

Arya wheeled on the balls of her bare feet, whipping around to face the grey steel door separating her and the voice calling her name. Quickly, Arya turned and snatched a white towel off the grey steel counter and wrapped her bloodied hand in the rough fabric.

"Arya, can I come in?"

"I-" Arya cleared her throat. "Fine. I guess."

With her free hand, Arya shoved her short, damp hair back out of her face. Her skin was slick with sweat, making her cotton shirt stick to her back. The door opened a crack and a sliver of flourescent light fell onto the darkened hallway outside the room. Another instant later, Jon stepped into the room. His dark curls were a tangled mess atop his head, and his eyes were shadowed with dark circles. He wore wrinkled, stained jeans and a white tee shirt, and his feet were bare.

"Are you... What the hell happened?"

"I... punched the wall."

Arya looked away from him sheepishly, suddenly aware of the murmuring voices from the little radio in the corner. Jon crossed the room and hesitated for a moment, listening as King Robert Baratheon gave his speech. Before Arya could say anything, Jon reached forward and turned the radio off.

"Come on, let's take a look at that hand."

Quietly, he closed the heavy door with the pad of his foot and knelt down to open the cabinet below the sink. The bathroom was cramped enough with one person, but with two Arya was forced to close the lid on the toilet and sit there with her bloodied hand in her lap. Jon set to work pulling out a first aid kit and wetting a towel before he turned back to Arya and carefully unwrapped her hand from the ruined towel. He started wiping the blood away with a clean towel, dipped in warm water.

"You shouldn't listen to that shit."

"I know."

"I mean it, Arya. Don't go getting any ideas. Robb and I are taking care of it."

"How?"

Jon sighed impatiently, picking her hand up carefully to inspect it. He wiped away the last of the blood and reached back behind him, pulling out a tube of antibiotic cream. He squeezed some onto Arya's knuckles and spread it gently with the towel before he reached back again.

"We don't know all the facts yet, Arya. We can't go making-"

"We know that he's _dead_, Jon. What more do we need to know?"

Jon pulled out a roll of gauze and started winding it around Arya's hand.

"Shush, Arya. You'll wake Bran and Rickon. Gods know they need the rest... Look, Robb's made me promise not to tell you anything, because we all know how you are. You'll... dive off the plane and beat the person responsible to death."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

Jon shot Arya an impatient glance as he secured her bandages and set to cleaning the blood and plaster off the floor.

"Arya, you need some rest. And in the morning, when we're home... Robb means to talk to you about this boy."

Arya felt blood rush to her cheeks.

"What? At a time like this?"

"Arya, you were _naked_, on the beach with him. Robb's going to gut him if he finds out who he is."

"We never... I didn't... I mean, we didn't-."

"I believe you, Arya. But it was still stupid. Get some rest. We'll be home in two or three hours."

Arya graced Jon with a single nod before she slithered out into the darkened isle of the Stark private plane. The only sounds were those of snoring, coming from her various siblings located throughout the cabin of the plane. Arya carefully walked down the isle to her own seat, directly across from Robb.

"You alright? Jon went to check on you..."

Arya glanced over towards Robb, who was whispering as quietly as he could manage.

Arya hesitated half a heartbeat before she nodded at him and settled down into the thickly padded seat. Her blanket had been abandoned on the ground when she stood, so she retrieved it then and laid it across her lap. Robb didn't question her anymore, so Arya turned her head the other way and slid her eyes shut, and attempted to sleep. As soon as her eyes were closed, images of her father's body danced before her eyes. When Jory and the other guards had found her at the beach, they drove her back to the Red Keep just as an ambulance was pulling up. They were shouting telling Arya to stay in the car, but she got out anyway. The paramedics leaped from the ambulance, getting a stretcher and running to the door with the mobile bed in tow. It felt like an eternity later that they re-emerged, with a bloody, swollen copy of her father. Her mother was right next to him, blood splattered across her face, ruining her blue silk gown. Robb was running after, wild fury clear as day in his eyes. Jon pulled him back, grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking hard. He pinned him to the ground as Sansa appeared, holding Rickon delicately as he sobbed against her chest. Bran was right behind Sansa, his face hard as stone and unreadable. Her mother was wailing, Jon and Robb were screaming, Rickon was sobbing, but Bran and Arya were silent as ghosts.

A vibration against Arya's thigh pulled her from her memories. She let her eyes open and reached into her pocket to pull her mobile out. Another text from Gendry. Despite her better judgement, she opened it.

_This shit isn't funny anymore, Arya. You need to call me back. I'm worried._

Arya deleted the message and tossed her phone onto the seat next to her. She might have felt guilty, if she wasn't so numb. She had been numb ever since the surgeon walked into the cold, bare room with blood on his scrubs and sweat on his brow. He didn't need to say a word before her mother burst into fresh tears.

_"I'm... I'm so, so terribly sorry, your grace."_

Robb had cleared his throat then, and ran a hand through his hair to pull himself together. He asked the surgeon for more details, at which the surgeon fidgeted nervously.

_"His... King Eddard, that is, he... A drug was injected, to, ahem... paralyze him. The site of injection would appear to be the base of his neck. After the injection, his throat was... Was cut clear to the bone. Without the autopsy, it is... difficult to say how long after... He was dead on arrival, your grace, there was nothing I could do."_

Sansa had started weeping at that, like a frightened little girl instead of a grown woman. Everyone was reacting in their own way, but Arya only felt numb. Her phone vibrated again. Reluctantly, she picked it up off the seat and checked.

_Arya, please. You can ignore me if you want, I just want to make sure you're alright. _

Arya let her finger hover over the delete button for a moment before she turned the phone over and pulled the battery pack from the back. She tucked the battery into her pocket and laid the phone on the seat next to her, and she setled into a fitful sleep.

* * *

"Arya, we're home."

A little hand was pressed against Arya's shoulder, shaking her torso lightly to pull her from her slumber. Arya let her eyes open a crack to see Rickon's face only a few inches before her, a little smile pulling at his lips.

"We'll be able to see Shaggydog, and Nymeria and Summer and Ghost and Grey Wind and Lady. C'mon, we're home!"

Arya forced a smile at the boy and rose unsteadily to her feet, stretching her arms out in front of her to chase away the stiffness from sleeping in a chair. Rickon ran off without another word, bounding down the aisle and off the plane after their mother. Sansa followed shortly after, pushing Bran in his wheelchair and shaking her head slightly. Arya felt a hand clap her on the shoulder as she scooped her bag up.

"Arya, a word?"

_Dammit._

"Sure, Robb. What is it?"

Arya slung her grey duffel bag over her shoulder and put her disassembled phone into her pocket before she turned to Robb.

"Jory... Er, Jory told me about the boy. Who is he?"

Arya shifted her weight from foot to foot before she pushed past Robb and started down the aisle. Cold air blew in through the open door, sending a chill down Arya's spine.

"No one."

"Arya, come off it. Just tell me the truth so I can get this sorted out."

"There's nothing _to_ sort out, Robb. Promise. I'm an adult."

"You're not, though. Obviously."

"Oh, please. Like I'm the first Stark to see someone other than the person they never chose to marry?"

"Arya, don't start on-"

"His name is Gendry. He's back in King's Landing. He's staying there. There is nothing to sort out."

"Well, you... You were... careful?"

Arya glanced back to see a blush creep into Robb's cheeks, obscured by the scruff growing on his jaw.

"We-... We didn't actually... ah-"

"Right, ok. Good. Go take a shower, you reek."

Arya took a deep breath of the cool, fresh Winterfell air and stepped out of the plane. Snow was falling lightly from a light grey sky, blanketing everything in a thin layer of white. Arya pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her shoulders and walked down the stairs to the ground, smiling a little at the give of snow beneath her trainers. Even under the current situations, being home felt good. Hundreds of people were gathered around the landing strip of the airport, waving their grey and white and black direwolf flags and radiating out their sympathies and support. King Eddard was loved by his subjects, that much was clear. Arya walked slowly, turning her face up to the sky so snowflakes could melt on her skin. The cold was refreshing, somehow, and made her feel welcome. A black car was waiting for them, with an escort and little flags mounted on it. A man stood by the open door, and bowed slightly to Arya as she climbed into the car with a little wave to the people of the North.

"When will Robb's coronation be?"

"First thing tomorrow morning, Bran. We'll have to hurry, but we can get it sorted out. I've already had preparations begin. Half the country will come to see it, Robb."

Robb only inclined his head slightly at that, and looked out the window as the car pulled onto the street. The airport they landed at was a private one, located fifteen minutes outside of Winterfell. As they drove, Arya pulled to mind a history lesson Bran had taught her the previous year. _Winterfell used to be only a castle_, he'd said, _back when there were lords and ladies and knights. The same castle we live in, I s'pose... Only we have plumbing. _ Arya tried to imagine their city of Winterfell as only containing the stone castle that they called home. Certainly Winterfell wasn't as large or crowded as King's Landing, but it was still difficult to imagine. As they drove closer and closer to the castle, more and more people were lining the streets to catch a glimpse of the royal family on their way home.

"Arya, in the name of the gods, fix that rat's nest on top of your head."

"Mother, I don't-"

"No. Listen, all of you. You are _Starks_. You are Starks of Winterfell, and you must be strong and honourable and set a good example for your subjects. You will exit this car with grace and dignity and the presence befitting princes and princesses. You will walk into the castle with your heads held high. Am I understood?"

They answered with a symphony of 'yes, mother's just as the car slowed to a stop. And one by one, they piled out of the car and walked with dignity until they were safely behind the walls of the palace. Rickon took off running as soon as the gates were shut, and Jon wasn't long after him. When Arya saw where they were headed, she joined in. She sprinted, kicking snow and mud up with her dirty trainers as she went, until they reached the big stone shed they were seeking. The stables were attached to it, with a wooden roof over top to protect the horses. The stable hands laughed and waved as the kids ran past, and darted into the stone building. Arya heard them as soon as she walked through the gates, but the howling was impossible to ignore now. When they walked in, the kennel master let them out, and Arya was knocked to the ground by a mass of grey and black and white fur.

"Nymeria!"

A rough, wet tongue raked across Arya's face, trailing slobbery kisses from ear to hear. Arya laughed as she pushed herself up to seated and pulled Nymeria in for a hug. Nymeria nuzzled her snout against Arya's neck for a moment before she pulled back and licked Arya's face again.

"I missed you, too. Did they take good care of you? Did you get to go hunting while I was gone?"

"Yes, princess. We took them on two hunting trips while you were gone."

"Good. Were you a good girl? You didn't bite anyone?"

"No, princess. They were restless without you all here, but they were only a little more trouble than usual."

"Good. Good girl, Nymeria."

Arya pushed herself off the ground and brushed the dirt off her jeans as she walked to the door of the building. Robb appeared in the doorway, with Sansa and Bran behind him.

"Grey Wind, to me."

Grey Wind rose and walked with the manner of a king to Robb, stopping faithfully at his side so Robb could pet the scruff of his neck.

"Lady."

Lady tilted her snout up and walked to Sansa in a way true to her name, stopping to sit daintily in front of her. Sansa murmured 'good girl', and leaned down to pet Lady's nose. Bran didn't have to say a thing for Summer to come bounding towards him, and lie his head protectively in Bran's lap. Arya smiled a little and ruffled the fur on top of Nymeria's head.

"Come on, girl. Let's go get settled in."

Arya squeezed past Robb and Grey Wind to exit the shed, and broke into a sprint towards the castle. Nymeria kept up easily beside her, her tail wagging excitedly. They passed various servants and workers as they went, but Arya paid them no mind. She'd had her fill of being a princess for a while. Arya slid in through the servant's door just as someone opened it, deftly avoiding a collision before she took off down the stone hallway. Her shoes squeaked and left wet footprints on the floor, and Nymeria left a trail of mud behind her. They bounded up the maid's staircase and ran through the hallways, choosing all the routes that would allow them to avoid Septa Mordane, Maester Luwin, her mother, or any other unwelcome visitors. Finally, Arya pushed through the door to her room. As soon as Nymeria was in, Arya closed the door behind her and turned the lock. Without hesitation, Nymeria leaped up onto Arya's bed and made herself comfortable in the piles of pillows and fur blankets. Arya kicked her trainers off, pulled her sweatshirt off, and peeled out of her tank top and jeans. And finally, when she sank down to the floor with her back agaisnt the door, Arya felt the weight lift from her chest.

"We're home, Nymeria."

Arya smiled a little as she looked around the room, drinking in her big fluffy bed and her dark wooden desk, her posters and her worn brown couch. It was rare for Arya to allow her mother into her room, because Catelyn would have a heart attack at the pictures of famous boxers, posters of musicians with multicoloured hair and piercings, clothes strewn across the floor, and of course that monstrosity of a couch. But to Arya, no place felt more like home than that room. Nymeria yawned noisily on the bed, pulling Arya's attention back to her.

"Alright, alright. Hold on."

Arya pushed herself off the ground and walked across the room to her adjoining bathroom, cringing at the feel of cold tile under her bare feet. The tub in her room was huge, a sprawling white marble tub that was big enough for four or five people to fit in easily. Arya turned the water on and closed the drain, spilling in a solution that smelled like strawberries and vanilla and made bubbles pile up in the tub. The water poured out quickly, but it still took a while for the tub to fill up. Arya hooked her fingers under the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down as she crossed the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. She stepped out of the underwear as she brough a hand up to rake her fingers through her tangled hair, and made a face at the dark circles under her eyes. Arya trailed her fingertips lightly down her face, her neck, her collarbone, until she found the strap of her bra. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts drifted to Gendry.

_"Is... I mean, does that... is this ok?"_

_Arya bit back laughter at his hesitation. His lips moved feverishly against her shoulder, his fingers hesitating at the clasp of her bra. Without a word, Arya reached back and unfastened it, leaning back slightly to let the bra fall to the sand. For a moment, Gendry was silent. She watched as the adam's apple in his throat bobbed up and down, and sweat beaded on his forehead._

_"What...?"_

_"Nothing... It's just... shit, Arya, I don't..."_

_"What?"_

_"Gods, you're perfect."_

_Gendry reached forward and kissed her again, pulling her into his lap. She pressed herself up against his bare chest and raked her nails down his back. Gendry let out a low, throaty moan against her lips, and-_

Nymeria barked again, snapping Arya out of the memory as the wolf whimpered and clawed at the bathroom door. With a roll of her eyes, Arya pulled the door open. Nymeria bounded into the bathroom and dove into the tub, splashing water across the floor. Arya smiled and shook her head as she took her bra off, and stepped into the tub as well. She stemmed the flow of water and sank back into the tub, letting the bubbles obscure everything except for her face. Nymeria busted up through the water, bubbles piled high on top of her head, and shook herself off.

"Hey! This is _my_ bath, you know."

Nymeria responded by leaning forward and dragging her tongue across Arya's face. It was all Arya could do to roll her eyes and go about washing herself and Nymeria. When both of them were clean, Arya drained the water from the tub, got out, and wrapped herself in a towel. She stopped at the door of the bathroom to press a little black button on an intercom attached to the wall.

"Yes, Princess Arya?"

"Send Pip up, if you can."

"Of course, princess."

Satisfied, Arya stepped out into her and dried herself off. Before she could go into her closet to find clothes, there was a sharp knock at the door. Lazily, Arya crossed the room and unlocked the door, opening it just enough for the small red-headed girl to slip in.

"Hi, Pip."

The girl curtsied slightly and lowered her eyes.

"Princess."

"Er, no... Just Arya."

"Of course. My apologies. I laid your clothes out in your closet this morning, pri-... Arya. Shall I get them?"

"No, I can get them myself. Just get started on drying Nymeria, please."

The girl curtsied again before she turned and cautiously approached the massive bundle of wet fur curled up on the floor. Arya turned quickly and opened stepped into her closet, dropping her towel to the floor. In the center of the little room they called a closet, there was a big round white cushion, where a pile of neatly folded clothes was set, alongside a pair of socks, and Arya's fuzzy black slippers. Arya walked to the cushion, shivering slightly as she inspected the clothes. Underwear, a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms, a grey v-neck tee shirt, and Arya's favourite white fleece robe. Most of the lady's maids would have picked out any number of the delicate silk sets she had been given, but it was for this reason that Arya favoured Pip. The girl was a year or two older than Arya, and knew exactly how she liked things done. Arya got dressed quickly and made a mental note to thank Pip before she came back out into the room. The red-headed maid was carefully pulling a brush through Nymeria's fur, leaning at her waist and extending her arm while her feet were positioned a safe distance from Nymeria's body.

"That's good, she's dry enough. Thanks. Have you eaten dinner yet, Pip?"

"Yes, prin-... Arya."

"Oh, good. If you're not busy, could you sneak me up a snack?"

"Of course."

The girl curtsied and scurried out of the room then, leaving Arya and Nymeria to themselves. Hesitantly, Arya crossed the room to her dirty jeans that had been left crumpled on the floor, and reached into the pocket. She pulled her phone out, along with the disassembled battery pack.

"I guess I should call him, huh?"

Nymeria let out a low whimper before she shook her fur out and leaped up onto the bed to nestle up in the blankets. Arya sighed and stuck the battery into the phone, closed the case, and powered the device up. While she waited for it to load, Arya crossed her room and laid down on her bed, on her belly with her feet at her pillows. Nymeria snuggled up to her, resting her head on Arya's back.

_18 new messages._

Arya scrolled through the messages quickly enough to see that they were all from Gendry before she gave in, and dialed his number.

_"Hello?"_

"Er... Hey, Gendry... It's Arya."

_"Arya! Shit, I've been trying to get you for-"_

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. I was... on a plane..."

Arya made a face at the stupidity of her statement, and propped her torso up with her elbows.

_"Oh, er... right. 'Course. Are you alright? I mean... what was all that about? Who were those people?"_

"They're... friends... of my fathers. Everything's... I'm ok. I'm home now."

_"Your father... So it's true, then? Ed told me, and I saw it on the news and all, but... I mean... YOU? A princess? If you're a princess then... Oh gods, if you're a princess... I took you to that boxing match and everything. And we... Oh, seven bloody hells! Your brother is going to-"_

"Gendry, just shut up for two damn seconds, ok?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Arya took a deep breath and ran a hand through her damp hair.

"I'm still just Arya."

_"No, you're a bloody princess!"_

"Call me princess one more time and I'm walking all the way back to King's Landing just so I can kick your arse."

_"Alright, alright... It's just... you don't seem like a princess."_

"The princess you're looking for is Sansa. I'm the black sheep of the family. Everyone else is royalty. Pretty sure they found me in a rubbish bin."

_"Oh shut up... I'm sorry, about your father."_

Arya bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard she threatened to turn it into a ruined mess of ripped flesh.

"Thanks."

_"So your brother will be king then? Jon?"_

"No. Robb. Jon is technically our half brother, so Robb is the first heir. I don't think Jon would want it, anyway. He's a black sheep too, I s'pose."

_"Oh. So when will he be crowned?"_

"Tomorrow. And then... Gods, who knows what then. If your father was somehow responsible for all this, then..."

_"I thought him and your dad were friends?"_

"Yeah, well... that's the point. Kings have to be _friends_ with everyone. Especially their enemies."

_"Oh. So... you've been inside the Red Keep and everything then, haven't you."_

Arya rolled onto her back, letting Nymeria's head rest on her stomach.

"Yeah, of course I have. We were staying there while we were in King's Landing."

_"Is it true, then? What they say about the dragon skulls."_

Arya laughed, despite herself, startling Nymeria.

"They're down in the old underground passages. They're _huge_."

_"Really? What else is there in that place?"_

"Everything's... very... fragile, and perfect, and pretty. Lots of open windows and silks and pretty things."

_"Do you miss it?"_

"Hells, no. It was _terrible_. You should see _our_ castle. It's a proper castle, not like that doll house. We have stone walls and warm fires and furs. That's home, for me."

_"I don't think I ever will get to see your castle."_

Arya bit her lip, scratching idly behind Nymeria's ear.

"Maybe, some day. Come see me. I'll pay for your plane ticket. I can show you around then."

_"I can't Arya. I have responsibilities. Siblings. Who would watch them?"_

"Your neighbor? Or your older sisters? Just for a few days. I'll send someone down to watch them. And I think I won truth by default. You have to let me give you a present."

_"Gods, you're so stubborn. I'll think about it."_

"You're going to defy a princess?"

_"Oi, that's not fair. You can't go throwing around your title whenever it suits you."_

"I think I actually can. C'mon, Gendry... We probably won't be able to see each other for a long while after that. Just come see me for a few days."

_"Alright, fine... But I'll need a hotel room and everything... and to not be found by your brother."_

"Are you _scared_ of him?"

_"I'd be stupid not to be. He has an entire army at his disposal."_

"I suppose so. But he won't hurt you. I'll take care of everything. I'll have money wired to your account right now, and send someone up to watch the kids. I want you on a plane as soon as she gets there."

_"You're awful bossy."_

"You're awful stubborn."

_"Oh, shut up. So what are you doing now?"_

Arya raised an eyebrow and looked over at Nymeria, smiling a little.

"Oh, you know. Just about to have tea with the princess of Dorne. The usual."

_"Bloody hells, really?"_

"No, Gendry." Arya laughed softly. "I'm lying in my bed with Nymeria, talking to _you_."

A soft knock sounded on her door, and Arya called for them to come in as she rolled back onto her stomach. Pip slipped in through the door and shut it behind her, with a silver tray in her hands.

"Oh, thanks, Pip. Just set it here."

Arya patted the spot on her bed in front of her.

_"I'm more interesting than the princess of Dorne. Who's that?"_

"Just Pip."

Pip curtsied and asked if Arya needed anything else.

"I need Elisa put on a plane for King's Landing immediately. No one can know but you, me and her. Understood?"

"Yes, prin-... Arya. I'll get on that right away."

"Thanks."

Pip curtsied again an left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

_"One of your servants?"_

"She's... Well, yeah, I guess."

_"That must be nice. Anyway... Your on your bed, huh? What're you wearing?"_

"_Gendry_." Arya laughed, glancing down at her pajamas. "I'm _naked_."

Arya could practically hear Gendry gulp through the phone.

_"Really?"_

"No, not really, you stupid. I'm in pajamas."

_"Oh, right. Shit, I'm gonna have to go, one of the kids broke a glass all over the floor."_

"Ok. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

_"Yeah. See you."_

Arya pulled her phone away from her face and disconnected the call, a little smile tugging at her lips. Beside her, Nymeria barked happily and sniffed at the tray of food left behind by Pip.

"You have your own food, fatty."

Nymeria growled at that, while Arya pulled the lid off the tray and inspected the contents. A peanut butter and jam sandwich, a glass bowl of chocolate ice cream, a bottle of orange juice, a bag of cheese puffs, and a slice of steak for Nymeria. Arya picked the meat up and held it out to Nymeria, wincing when her teeth dragged across Arya's palm.

"Hey, careful. You act like you haven't eaten in days."

Arya picked her sandwich up and bit into it, chewing for a moment before she opened her bottle of orange juice and took a swig. A knock at Arya's door barely made her lift her eyes, where in King's Landing that would have set her on edge.

"Come in."

The door opened and Pip's face appeared in the opening.

"Bed pardon, pri-... Elisa's gone to the airport. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Nope. I'll see you in the morning, Pip. Get to bed."

The girl curtsied and closed the door, disappearing from view. Arya finished her meal happily chatting away to Nymeria, and settled into her first restful sleep in a long time.


	7. Coronation

**A/N: My lovelies! I'm so so so sorry it's been so long. My husband's father passed away very suddenly, so we flew over to be with his mum and other family for a few weeks. We got back a couple of days ago, but I just couldn't find the time to write. I've missed you all terribly, and hopefully you'll forgive me for the wait once the next chapter is out this weekend. We'll see. Remember to review, and enjoy!**

"Faster, Arya. _Run, _for the love of the gods. Faster! Yes, there! Point your toes. _Harder_. Lock your knees. Control, Arya! Control your body. Stick it!"

Arya landed firmly on her feet with a creak of springs under her toes and a spray of sweat off her slick skin. She squeezed her muscles impossibly hard, forcing the air out of her lungs as she fought to maintain her balance, but to no avail. She hopped once, then once again before she steadied herself long enough to raise her arms and chin to finish the move.

"You _hopped_! Ten push ups, and then you do again. Go."

Arya barely bit back a groan as she dropped to the mat, pushing herself up to a plank. She bent her elbows and lowered herself carefully to the ground until her chin graced the top of the mat. She had been at it since four thirty that morning, and her arms were shaking from the strain.

"Tell me why you hopped."

"I... lost... balance."

Arya barely managed to ground the words out, eyes locked onto the mat below her and mind solely focused on finishing the push ups. A bead of sweat rolled off of her brow and splashed down onto the mat.

"Louder!"

"I lost balance!"

"And why did you lose balance?"

"I don't _know_."

In her exhaustion, Arya couldn't keep the venom out of her voice.

"Up."

Arya bit her lip, kicking herself mentally for her attitude. Slowly, she turned to face the coach. From appearances alone, the man was far from intimidating. He was fair, from Pentos, and small of stature. His hair was silvery blonde, falling in lazy curls to his shoulder, unbound. Though he had to have been the age of her mother or older, he looked no older than Robb.

"If you want, I go. You learn skill on your own."

"No, I'm sorry, coach."

"Sorry, yes? Yes, I think you will be sorry. Three laps, bar drills, and then you do again. _Without_ hopping.

"Yes, coach."

Without another word, Arya turned and started into an easy jog, muscles too tired to exert any more energy. The gym was big enough for fifty more girls to be training with her, so the laps were strenuous. Boxing and fencing had been strictly prohibited until after the days events, but Catelyn had forgotten to ban gymnastics. So there Arya was, paying for her two week break with blood and sweat. When Arya had finished her laps she walked slowly as she dared to the tall white bars, crouching down for a moment to pick her grips up off the floor.

"Ah ah ah. No grips. Pullover, now."

"What? But my hands-"

"Have lost their calluses. You must build. No grips."

Arya bit her tongue so hard it bled as she walked to the bin of chalk and lightly coated her palms, rubbing them together to remove the excess. Coach crossed his arms over his chest and watched her carefully as she tugged at her black spandex leotard and reached up to grip the lower of the two bars. With all the strength she could muster she kicked herself up and over the bar, catching herself at the top before she dropped her legs down and straightening her arms. Her toes hung above the ground and the bar dug painfully into her hip bones.

"Point your toes harder. Stop shaking. Again."

Arya dropped down and let her feet touch the ground long enough for her to kick herself over, and extend her arms at the top. The couch shouted instructions in his heavy accent, and Arya swung her legs back with her elbows locked, and brought them back against the bar so her body swung around it. The skin of her palm folded under itself painfully, making Arya wince. Again, the coach shouted, and Arya swung herself to do a handstand on top of the bar.

"Hold!"

Arya's arms shook so hard the entire bar shook, and the breath had left her lungs.

"_Hold it!_"

Arya's left elbow buckled under her, and she came crashing down towards the mats under the bar. Her shoulder bounced painfully off of the bar before she hit the ground, face smacking off the mat and chalk flying into her eyes.

"Dammit."

"Get up, Arya."

"My arm!"

"Get _up_, I said!"

With the last ounce of strength she had left, Arya pushed herself up off the ground to sit carefully on the thick blue mat.

"Let me see the arm."

Arya carefully turned her arms towards Coach, as he walked over and crouched down next next to her. He prodded her arm gently, gripping her bicep and rotating her arm carefully. Arya could feel a bruise spreading across the pale skin of her arm, from her elbow to her shoulder.

"Is fine. Arya, look at me."

Arya turned her steely eyes onto the pale blue ones of coach, seething with frustration and anger. Coach's eyes softened, and he reached forward to tuck back a loose strand of Arya's damp brown hair.

"What do we say about bruises?"

"Every bruise is a lesson."

"And about falling?"

"We fall so we can learn to get back up."

"Just so."

"_Arya?_ Are you alright?"

In a flash, Coach was on his feet, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed.

"Your grace."

Robb strode into the room with purpose, weaving around the three beams of varying heights until he could crouch down next to Arya. He poked at her arm, narrowing his eyes to inspect the angry red and purple mark.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, I just fell."

"It's nearly eight, Arya. You need to go get ready."

"Hells, I lost track of time. Coach?"

Arya glanced up at the man, who rolled his eyes in mock annoyance and motioned towards the door.

"You will return tomorrow morning, six o'clock. We must condition."

"Yes, coach."

"Oh, and Arya?"

"Yes, coach?"

"You will start taking ballet classes with Sansa. Starting this evening. I will speak with Madame Grison now so she will be expecting you."

"What? But I'm _not_ a-"

"Not a coach? Yes, I know, that is me. And you do as I say. See you in the morning."

Arya groaned, but knew better than to fight when he got like that. Instead, she turned her head to Robb. He held his hands out to Arya, and she took them to pull herself up to standing. He pulled his hand back in horror once she was on her feet, turning his palm up to inspect it.

"You're bleeding."

Arya turned her own palm over and lifted it closer to her face to inspect it, studying the flap of skin hanging down from a bloody gash.

"It's just a rip. Sorry. You have chalk on your sleeves now."

Robb shot Arya an annoyed look and started towards the exit, leaving Coach and Arya to exchange a secret smile before Arya walked lazily after him. Rob broke through the heavy doors of the gym, holding them for a moment to allow Arya to pass through.

"Mother's been going crazy trying to find you."

"Oh."

"And she's going to kill you when she sees that arm."

"She can't kill me, then I wouldn't be able to stand prettily in my dress."

"Arya."

Arya rolled her eyes and ground out a half-hearted apology before Robb stopped abruptly and turned to face Arya.

"Why did you have one of the maids sent to King's Landing, Arya?"

Arya's heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.

"I-... I only-"

"Don't lie to me, it's no use."

Arya gave a defeated sigh before she continued.

"I think-... I think I might know part of the reason why father-..."

A crease formed between Robb's eyebrows, and without another word and gripped her by her uninjured arm and pulled her into a storage closet, barred the door with a creaky wooden chair, and sat carefully on a stack of boxes.

"Go on, then."

Arya tugged at her leotard before she sat on an overturned pail across from him, and looked down at her knees.

"The-... The boy, Gendry, from King's Landing... His... I don't know if I should be saying this, Robb."

Robb narrowed his eyes at Arya for a moment before he reached forward and gripped her firmly by her shoulders.

"Arya Stark, you are a princess of Winterfell, brother to the King in the North. You have the finest protection in the country, and can knock a man on his arse with a single punch besides that. What's got you so afraid?"

Arya let her eyes slide shut and took a deep breath before she continued, keeping her eyes shut to save herself from whatever Robb's reaction would be.

"Gendry's Robert Baratheon's son. I haven't been able to find much out about his mum, but believe me I've tried. She was a waitress, but that's all I really know. He only just-"

"What do you _mean_ he's Robert Baratheon's son?"

Arya opened her eyes slightly to meet a pair coloured Tully blue.

"I... I don't know why it was... I found out right before the ball, the night that-... I saw Robert's brother, Renly, and... Have you seen Renly?"

Robb tilted his head to the side and eyed Arya curiously before he nodded. Arya rose quickly to her feet, rubbing her bloodied hand off on the slick spandex of her finger. She moved the chair barring the door and pulled it open.

"Come here."

"Arya, what-"

"Just follow me, Robb. Ok?"

Robb gave an irritated sigh, but he followed her all the same. Arya lead him around the castle by the most secluded routes, ignoring his questions on how she knew about certain secret passages. They eventually reached her bedroom, and Arya locked the door behind them.

"Get my mobile. It's on the table by my bed."

Arya motioned briefly before she crossed the room to the entrance to her bathroom. She turned the faucet on and rinsed her hands clean of blood and chalk before she wrapped her injured hand in a smooth white hand towel.

"Ok, what about it?"

"Go to my pictures. Most recent one."

Arya pulled the towel tight around her hand to stop the blood from flowing out before she went back out into her bedroom.

"Oh, for the love of..."

"Do you see now?"

Arya walked quickly to stand at Robb's side and inspect the image on the surface of her mobile. The picture had been taken at the gym, with Gendry's arm around Arya's shoulders. Sweat matted down their hair and made their skin shiny, but they were both smiling ear to ear.

"I don't know how, but... I think Father knew about him. When I mentioned it, that night, he... He told me not to mention it to anyone, or to ever see him again. And then later, when I was dancing with Renly, he told me to leave. Like he was warning me."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner, Arya? I-... I need to go speak with Jon, and Mother."

Arya nodded a little and took her phone back, tossing it onto the bed lazily. Robb ran a hand through his thick curls and glanced distractedly over at Arya.

"Get ready. Find Sansa to help with that bruise."

Without waiting for a response, Robb strode brusquely from the room, leaving the door ajar behind him. Arya took a deep breath and went back into her bathroom and turned her shower on. When steam made the air in the room thick, Arya peeled the clingy spandex leotard off her body, removed her sweat-soaked sports bra, and stepped into the shower. Too late, she forgot about the towel wrapped around her hand.

"Dammit."

The towel was soaked from the water, and clinging to the tear in her skin. With a grimace, she pulled the towel off and threw it out of the shower.

"Hey, watch out."

Arya jumped so hard she had to grab at the wall of the shower to stop from slipping on the smooth shower floor.

"Sansa, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Haven't you ever heard of _knocking?_"

"Your door was open. It's not my fault you've never heard of closing the door. Robb said you've hurt yourself."

"I'm fine, really."

Arya poured shampoo into her hand and scrubbed it into her scalp, thankful for the opaque glass separating her from her sister.

"I'll go get everything ready. Do you know where your dress is?"

"In the closet, hanging up. I haven't seen it yet, warn me how bad it is."

"I'm sure it's beautiful. Hurry up, I'll need all the time I can get."

Arya let out the breath she'd been holding in when she heard the bathroom door close with a soft thud. She finished her shower in private, taking care to scrub all the sweat and chalk from her bruised skin. When she was finished, she stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and walked out into her room. She crossed the room to sit at her vanity, where Sansa was laying out different paints and torture devices.

"My coach is making me take ballet classes with you."

Sansa let out a most unladylike snort as she plugged in a hair dryer.

"You? You won't last through the warmup."

"Why not? I can prance about and look pretty."

Sansa aimed the muzzle of the dryer at Arya's head and let her pretty pink lips curl into an uncharacteristically wicked smile.

"Oh, I simply can't wait."

Arya opened her mouth to respond, but before she could Sansa had turned the device on, and a noisy stream of hot air drowned her out as it blew her hair around. Arya rolled her eyes and sighed. If Sansa could do it, she certainly could as well. Sansa finished drying her hair and worked her curler through it, leaving Arya with little loose ringlets all around her face. She pinned her fringe back and moved her chair so Arya and Sansa were face to face. When Arya's phone sounded across the room, Sansa gave an irritated sigh and got up. Quickly and gracefully, before Arya could yell at her to stop, Sansa crossed the room and picked the phone up.

"Hello?"

Her blue eyes flitted over to Arya quickly, then a small smile tugged at her lips.

"No, this is her sister Sansa. She's getting ready now, but I suppose she can spare a moment to speak with you. Hold on."

Sansa glided back over to Arya and held the phone out to her.

"It's your boyfriend."

"He's _not_ my- Oh, nevermind. Give it here."

Arya snatched her mobile away from Sansa and held it up to her ear, letting out a sigh.

"Hello?"

_"Arya, hey. I'm at the airport, they moved my flight up so the ticket was free."_

"Oh, you're already here? Hells. Er... Just... stay there. I'll have a car sent or something. Ow, Sansa! That's attached, you know. I have to go. Talk to you as soon as I can."

Arya slammed the device down onto her vanity and shot a glare at Sansa, who barely noticed as she tugged an unruly strand of hair into place.

"Oh, stop complaining. There, see? Much nicer. Now about that _face_."

"Very amusing. Hurry up."

Sansa smiled sweetly at Arya and set to work coating Arya's skin in paints and powders and creams, covered her bruises and cuts, and painted her nails matte pink.

"There, done. You know, this would go much smoother if you would just let the makeup artists and hairdressers get you ready."

Arya wrinkled her nose and stood slowly, wincing as her knees popped and creaked in protest after being held still for so long. Sansa rose more gracefully, sweeping across the room to the garment bag laid out on Arya's bed.

"I don't like them getting me ready. They make me look like a clown."

"Oh, Arya."

Arya shrugged and crossed the room, watching as Sansa pulled a mass of grey and black fabric from the bag. She laid it out for Arya to inspect.

"Oh my... It's _huge_!"

"Oh, Arya, it's not as bad as all that..."

"Sansa, look at it! It's got enough fabric to make Septa Mordane like three new dresses."

"Arya."

"Ugh, fine then, help me into it at least."

Sansa rolled her eyes, but helped Arya squirm into the pile of fabric all the same. When the zipper was pulled up and everything was in place, Arya hesitantly turned to face her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"_Arya!_"

"Well look at me!"

The base fabric of the dress was charcoal grey, with midnight black lace over everything. The bodice was tight to Arya's chest, but gave way at her waist to hundreds of folds of fabric that fell lazily to the floor under their lace shell. The lace continued up to Arya's neck without the fabric, and down her arms to make tight sleeves.

"It's not that bad. Really."

Arya grimaced at her reflection and spun around a little.

"Whatever. Hand me my shoes."

Sansa ducked into the closet and emerged with black heels that Arya stepped into without complaint.

"Is this all? No other surprises?"

"Just a cloak."

"Fine, put it on."

"I'm not your personal maid, you know."

Even as she said it, Sansa pulled the grey fur-trimmed cloak from the bag and draped it around Arya's shoulders. It fastened in the front and hid most of the awful lace sleeves, but the dress was still unbearable.

"There. You look beautiful."

"Shut up, Sansa."

Arya turned and swept from the room with her fabrics fluttering behind her. No matter how much she hated the dress, she had more important things to worry about. With her gaze kept forward and he dress shamelessly hitched up around her knees, Arya made her way to Robb's room. She knocked quickly and harshly on the door, and took a step back to wait. Within a few moments, the door swung open to show Jon standing in the doorway.

"What do you need, Arya?"

"To talk to Robb."

"We're busy."

"I need to talk to him. It'll only take a minute."

Jon glanced over his shoulder and made a show of sighing before he stepped aside and let Arya enter. The room was considerably darker than the hallway, so Arya could only see the vague outline of Robb's form before her eyes adjusted.

"Why's it so dark in here?"

"Headache. What d'you need?"

"The-... Gendry, he-"

"Arya, I don't have the time to discuss that right now. Later tonight, or tomorrow, we can-"

"You don't understand, Robb. It can't wait."

As Arya's eyes adjusted, she saw Robb sigh and rub his eyes. He looked so much older than he had just a week ago.

"Fine, explain."

"He's... he's here. I mean, not _here_, but at the airport. I don't think that it's fair to leave him unprotected. I mean, he was obviously important for some reason."

"_You_ are the one who doesn't understand, Arya. This is all more complicated than that. And you are not permitted to see this boy."

"Robb, you can't-"

"No. You may not see him, and that's that."

For a moment, it was all Arya could do to stare at him with her lips slightly parted. She wanted so badly to be childish and immature and stomp out of the room while yelling some vile curse over her shoulder. But a little voice sounding suspiciously like her fathers reminded her in the back of her mind that she, Arya of Winterfell, a princess of the North, was a Stark. So instead, Arya lifted her chin and left the room with all the dignity she could scrape up, but that didn't stop it from hurting when the door shut behind her the second she was out of the room. With a resigned sigh, Arya turned and walked back down the hall to the servant's staircase. They would be expected in the main hall in half an hour, but she didn't need that long. The maids rushing about preparing for the day all bowed in silence to her, having become accustomed to her presence in that section of the castle. As Arya pushed through the heavy doors to the staff dining room, a silence fell over the group of people finishing up their breakfasts. A heartbeat later, the sound of wood scraping over a stone floor echoed through the room as they clamored to get to their feet and bow slightly at Arya's presence.

"Sit down you stupids."

Arya rolled her eyes and smiled easily, taking a free seat at the end of the long wooden table. Without thinking, she reached forward and grabbed a slice of toast off a tray on the table. She smeared strawberry jam across the crispy bread and bit into it, looking around to ensure everyone was going about their breakfasts.

"So, to what do we owe the honour, princess?"

Arya turned to the voice at her right; one of the chauffeurs who had been with the family since Arya was a baby.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Peter?"

"Of course I am, princess. Is there something I can help you with?"

Arya poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a sip to wash down the toast.

"Actually, there is. Do you have duties this morning? Like... now?"

"No, princess."

"Great. A word in private, please?"

Arya rose and brushed the crumbs off the front of her dress, and shot a sharp look around the room as the staff all began to rise from their seats. As they settled down, Arya took her empty glass and went back through the kitchen, leaving the glass in the sink as she checked over her shoulder to ensure that Peter was following. Once satisfied, Arya lead Peter out through the staff entrance, and headed towards the kennels. The path their had been cleared of snow, but Arya was still careful not to slip in her heels.

"Princess?"

"I need you to pick someone up from the airport for me."

"The airport, princess?"

"I would lower my voice if I were you. Yes, the airport. Dark hair, blue eyes, tall and muscular. Answers to Gendry. I need him brought back here, and hidden in... I don't know, the kitchens, or the staff bedrooms or somewhere, until I can figure out what to do with him."

"I see."

"Robb's too distracted to notice you're gone, and if he does I'll think of something."

"Very good, princess." Peter bowed to her briefly before he turned and waked brusquely away, hands clasped behind his back. The snow had ceased to fall that morning, but the sky was still bleak and grey and threatening more snow at any moment. Arya wouldn't have minded. Snow was as much a part of her as blood and flesh. A sharp bark pulled Arya from her thoughts and turned her attention towards the kennels.

"How is she? She gets restless chained up like this. It's not right."

"Oh, she'll be just fine, princess. Wouldn't want her causing any trouble with the guests."

"She doesn't cause trouble..."

Arya stepped across the threshold of the building, exhaling as a wave of heat hit her numb skin. The dogs were all chained up and whining to some extent, by Nymeria's cried drowned out all the rest. She paced back and forth in the small space allowed by her restraints, and pulled at the chain to get closer to Arya.

"Nymeria, sit."

Reluctantly, Nymeria lowered herself onto her haunches and turned her eyes on Arya. With a sigh, Arya crossed the room and crouched down next to the dog, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"It's not very long. Mother wouldn't let me keep you in my room. After everyone's gone, we'll go explore the Godswoods. You can hunt. Ok? I promise."

Nymeria dragged her tongue along Arya's cheek, undoubtedly smudging the makep Sansa had taken so long to perfect.

"Oi, watch it."

Arya let soft laughter spill from her lips as she stood and brushed the fur from the front of her dress.

"Be good, you hear me? You be good. No biting your brothers and sister. Don't be too loud."

Nymeria barked in response, and Arya offered her one last smile before she hitched her skirts up, and sprinted back towards the castle. Her mother would be positively mad by then, running around trying to get her chicks all in a row. Arya ducked into the staff entrace, weaved around the cooks and maids and other staff, bounded through the hallways, and finally broke through the entrace to the great hall. Catelyn's head swung around to give Arya a positively mortified expression as Arya smoothed her skirts down, straightened out her cloak, and calmly made her way to stand next to her other siblings.

"Where in the name of the gods have you been, Arya?"

"Visiting Nymeria."

Catelyn's lips pressed into a firm line and her eyes burned into Arya's skin, but Arya did not flinch. Catelyn let out an exasperated sigh and moved forward to tuck back the strands of Arya's hair that had come loose while running.

"No matter. You're here now. Is everyone ready? Robb, dear? Are you ready?"

Robb's only answer was a slight inclination of his head. Catelyn nodded stiffly and spun on her heels to face the great doors.

"Then let's be off."

The doors swung open and the guards moved out, in neat formations in front and behind of Arya and her family. Beside her, Sansa smiled prettily and waved to the crowds with the perfect expression that captured equal parts mourning for her father and joy for her brother befitting the occasion. Arya tried to copy her, but in the end she settled for looking up at the grey sky and letting the light flurries melt on her warm skin. The walk to the godswood was short, but the procession took longer than usual with the burden of guards and a crowd. So they walked slowly, waved to their subjects, and eventually made it to the safety of the godswood. Even there, camera watched their every move and projected the scene onto the screens in homes across the country. Eddard Stark had been loved dearly, and not a soul was going to miss his son's coronation. The crown sat on a stone pedestal, right in front of a weirwood tree. The red eyes would stare right into Robb's as he donned the undecorated brass crown. Arya tried to pay attention, to be a good supportive sister and dutiful princess, but he cold air bit through the thin lace of her dress, and her feet ached in her heels. Arya fidgeted in place as Robb grimly took his oath, and lifted the heavy metal crown onto his head. As they made their way back to the castle for the celebration, the crowds cheered and waved their direwolf flags, but Robb barely seemed able to muster up a smile for them.

"Father wasn't lying about this crown."

Cattelyn reached over discreetly to comfortingly rub Robb's arm.

"Your father never lied."

Suddenly, Arya was taken back to a memory of when they were children.

_"Am I going to be king some day?"_

_Arya reached up and pulled at the dull brass of her father's crown, which rested on his head so perfectly. Across the yard, Robb and Theon laughed as they fought with wooden sticks._

_"No, you're a princess. Robb will be king after me."_

_"Well what about me?"_

_"Well, when you're old enough you can go to school, or you can marry a prince, or-"_

_"I hate school! And I don't want to marry anyone. I want to be king."_

_Eddard sighed and ruffled Arya's hair._

_"One day, when I'm old and can't remember my own name, I'll place this crown on your brother Robb's head. And then he'll be able to testify as well as me that this crown is an awful, heavy thing that no one should be made to suffer. You don't want all that, now, do you?"_

Arya bit down on her lip and kept her gaze forward. She had run from him, then, to go find something more exciting to do. Now, she wished she had stayed. When they made their way into the dining hall, their guests stood and applauded for Robb.

_King Robb now._

Arya wished they would just stop. A splitting pain throbbed behind her eyes and worsened with each shout of '_the king in the north!_'. At last the cheering subsided, and they were able to sit down to their breakfasts. Robb didn't even look up from his plate as the meal went on, though idle chatter went on all throughout the hall. None of the Starks ate much, and the celebration dragged on at a painfully slow rate. No matter how exhausted and worn out they were, the Starks of Winterfell had to be gracious and honourable hosts. When the last guest had finally left the hall, the first thing Arya did was take her shoes off. Her toes practically sighed in relief as they came into contact with the cold stone floor, unbound by the confines of the heels.

"Arya Stark."

"Mother."

Catelyn gave an exasperated sigh and lead Robb brusquely from the hall, leaving the rest of her children standing at the table without a purpose.

"Right. Well. I'm going to change."

Arya picked her shoes up off the ground and made for the exit, trying her best not to look suspicious. It was well past three o'clock, and Arya didn't know how long Genry had been hiding in the kitchens. She imagined the tall, muscular boy squished into a cupboard as she walked, and couldn't bite back a snort at the mental image. The castle felt empty as she made her way up to her room, with all of the servants busy cleaning up after the messy guests. Once safely inside her room, Arya stripped the itchy lace dress from her body and stepped into her closet, naked save for her black boy-short underwear. Arya turned back towards the door to hit the light switch, eyes straining in the dark to find it. At last, light flooded the long hall of her closet.

"Well I know you missed me, but isn't that a little desperate?"

A yelp slipped through Arya's lips and her arms instinctively flew to cover her chest as she spun around to face the voice coming from the back of her closet. There, sprawled out on a pile of pillows, was Gendry.

"You git! You nearly gave me a heart attack. Hells."

Arya's heart pounded in her chest as she blindly reached a hand out and grabbed the first scrap of clothing her fingers came into contact with. She snatched the fabric to her chest to cover herself, and walked past Gendry to the drawer where she kept her undergarments.

"Sorry, your... driver...? Your whoever, brought me up here and told me to keep quiet. How was the coronation?"

"Long."

Arya pulled out a black bra and slid it on, fastening it behind her back before she turned to face Gendry. A stupid little smile was plastered to his face.

"What?"

"You're a _princess_."

"Shut up, Gendry. You shut up right now or I'll... I'll punch you."

"You've already done that. You don't punch that hard. You have so many dresses. Gods. And you have a picture of Loras Tyrell on your wall."

Laughter punctuated his speech as he rose to his feet and moved to wrap his arms around Arya's waist. She shoved them off, brought her knee up to connect with his groin, and moved to the other end of her closet to find a shirt.

"Sansa put that there. She's in love with him. It's pathetic."

Arya pulled a grey hoodie over her head and went to find a pair of jeans. She stepped over Gendry, who was curled up on the floor holding his stomach in pain.

"And... _I'm_... the git?"

"You are! You deserve that. You can't just hide in someone's closet and not expect them to kick you in the balls."

Gendry laughed and rose to his feet to catch Arya around the waist again. That time, she didn't fight him. She turned to look up at him, barely biting back a smile. Just seeing him safe and hidden was almost enough to make up for the terrible morning.

"I don't even get a hello?"

"You're such a baby, Gendry."

"Didn't you miss me at all?"

"It's been like a week."

"Didn't you miss making fun of me?"

Arya let herself smile a little and nudged Gendry in the ribs lightly.

"Only a little. Let me go, I need pants."

"Or you could not put pants on."

"Gendry, you are a pig."

He laughed at that and let his arms drop to his sides as Arya turned back to the rack of clothing. She pulled down a pair of worn jeans and stepped into them, yanking them up to rest comfortably on her hips. She secured the button and turned back to face the boy.

"How was your flight?"

"Boring."

"How long did you have to wait here?"

"Couple hours."

"Sorry. We weren't allowed to leave until all of the other people left. We had to host this big breakfast."

"It's like three o'clock..."

"They started drinking. They never leave once they start drinking."

"Ah. Well I'm starving."

"Sorry. I'll get something."

Arya shut the light off in the closet and went out into her room, slipping on her socks and lacing up her black leather boots.

"I'll be back. I'm just going to go grab Nymeria and whatever food is leftover for you. Don't touch my stuff."

"No promises." He smiled and went over to her desk, rifling through the papers.

Arya sighed and shook her head.

"Lock the door, you stupid. I'll be right back."

Arya pulled her door open just enough to slip out into the hallway, and waited outside until she heard the click of the lock. Satisfied, she made her way down the nearly empty halls until she found herself in the kitchens. The staff was so busy, and so used to her presence, that they barely ducked their heads in response to her. She smiled and made her way over to the cook.

"Hi Miss Marta, d'you think there's any way you could wrap some leftovers up for me? Just stick them in a bag or something when you get a second?"

"Of course, dearie. Just give me a moment, and I'll..."

"I'm heading out to get Nymeria, but I'll come back through this way."

"Alright, dearie."

Arya nodded and squeezed through the busy kitchen to reach the back door, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally broke through to the empty yard. Fresh snow was starting to lay on the path to the kennels, and Arya's boots left heavy prints in the smooth white blanket as she made her way along the path. Nymeria howled in anticipation as she drew closer, and not two seconds after she opened the door, the mass of grey and white fur knocked her to the ground.

"Princess Arya! I'm so sorry, she must have slipped out of her collar. I was trying to see to-"

"I'm fine, really."

Arya laughed and shoved Nymeria off as she got to her feet and brushed the snow from her clothes.

"It's fine, she's hard to control. You should let the others out into the yard, they're all going to get restless and run away soon."

"Quite right, Princess. Good day, Princess."

Arya smiled and scratched behind Nymeria's ears quickly before she made her way back up the bath to the kitchens. When she pulled the door open, Nymeria darted inside to hunt out whatever scraps the cooks had dropped on the floor.

"Ah, Princess Arya, here you are."

The elderly cook held out a brown paper bag to Arya, folded down neatly and stuffed so full it looked ready to burst.

"Thank you. Everything was great this morning, by the way."

"Well thank you, dearie. Best be off, now."

"See you."

Arya made her way back through the kitchen, called Nymeria away from her hunt, and made her way back up to her room. When she pushed through the door, Gendry had Arya's worn black duffel bag on the bed in front of him, and was rifling through the contents.

"That's none of your business, get out of there."

She let Nymeria slip in through the opening in the door before she shut and locked it, and went over to her bed.

"There's a _sword_ in here, Arya. Why the hells is there a sword in here?"

Arya pulled herself up onto the bed and crossed her legs, holding the bag out to Gendry. He took it and peered inside.

"My brother gave it to me. I used to be super into fencing. It's dull, you can feel it. It was my first, though. We named it Needle. Jon's sort of always been my partner in crime."

Arya smiled a little as Nymeria jumped up onto the bed and sniffed suspiciously at Gendry. Hesitatntly, Gendry held his hand out for her to sniff. Nymeria growled at him for a moment, before she settled down between him and Arya, keeping her wary eyes trained on his every move.

"Give her some food and she'll warm up to you."

Gendry reached into the bag and dropped a scrap of meat in front of Nymeria. The change in her manner was subtle, but still a change. She consumed the offering and rested her head down on the mattress as if to signify her tolerance of the new person.

"See? She's just rough around the edges. She's sweet once you get to know her, I promise."

"They do say that dogs take after their masters."

"She's not a _dog_."

Arya frowned and scratched behind Nymeria's ear absently as Gendry dug into a sandwich the cook had packed into the bag.

"So what's the plan for tonight? Do you have royal things to be doing?"

Arya rolled her eyes and took the bag from him, pulling out a bag of cheese puffs. She tore the bag open and popped one into her mouth.

"I'm supposed to be taking ballet lessons with Sansa, but I have something more interesting planned."

Gendry raised an eyebrow as he worked a large bite of food with his teeth.

"I'm not sure I like being on your territory very much."

Arya smiled and shrugged as she ate another cheese puff, and licked the orange powder from her fingers.

"Hurry up. I'm going to show you the real world, city boy."

Arya took her duffel bag by the handles and removed it from the bed, throwing it over her shoulder as she hopped down from the bed and crossed the room to her desk. She dropped the bag at the front of the desk and turned back to face Gendry, pulling her hood up over her head.

"What d'you mean, the real world?"

Arya smiled a little and smacked her hand against her thigh.

"Nymeria, to me."

Nymeria bounded off the bed and moved to sit faithfully at Arya's side, both of them staring intently at Gendry.

"You'll want shoes. Hurry up."

With a sigh, Gendry stuffed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth and slid off the bed, heading into the closet to retrieve his trainers. Arya mentally planned their trip out as she waited, absently petting the fur on Nymeria's head as she did. When Gendry finally emerged, shoes on and hands in his pockets, she gave him a toothy grin.

"Ready for an adventure?"


	8. Under the Weirwood

**A/N: I'd like to take a moment to remind everyone that this is rated mature for a reason. That being said- hi again! This can't really be counted as an actual chapter because of how short it is, but I felt so awful for neglecting you that I wanted to give you a little bonus smut. Bonus note for my Sentinel readers- keep your eyes peeled for an update tonight or tomorrow. Enjoy!**

"Seven bloody fucking hells, Arya. It's freezing. Where are we _going_?"

The wind whipped at Gendry's unaccustomed summer skin, bringing a most unwelcome blush to his cheeks. His shaggy black hair hung in his eyes, leaving just enough vision that he could see the stunted, hooded figure in front of him sprint ahead, musical laughter trailing behind.

"Arya!"

A twisted root caught the toe of Gendry's boot, sending him flying forward against the biting wind. The layer of dead leaves and dirt softened the fall, but did nothing for his pride. The only comfort was that Arya had run too far ahead to see him fall. Blood rushed to Gendry's face, intensifying the red of his cheeks as he pulled himself back to his feet and brushed the muck from his jeans. With a huff the boy carried on, navigating cautiously around the trees and roots Arya seemed to know by heart. He was utterly out of his own comfort zone, and thought for a moment of the torment he must have put Arya through, dragging her around King's Landing.

"Took you long enough."

Gendry broke through a line of trees to a small clearing, filled with a great ancient red-faced tree and a pool with steam rising over it. The bleeding eyes of the tree bore into Gendry as he blindly stumbled across the clearing, capturing his attention to such a degree that he failed to notice Arya stripping her clothes off until she grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing? Put your clothes back on, it's freezing!"

"Gendry, you're so stupid."

A most mischievous smile decorated Arya's face as she shimmied out of her torn blue jeans and laid them across the limb of a tree. Her sweatshirt was laid out next to it, and her shoes rested at the base of the tree, with her sucks tucked safely inside. Slowly, Arya peeled her shirt away from her skin and over her head, tossing it carelessly across the branch in the same fashion as before. Her milky white skin was dotted with goosebumps from her head to her toes. Gendry took a sharp inhale and took in the sight before him. Arya was completely naked from the waist up, and the only thing covering her from there down was the plain black cotton of her underwear. As his eyes reached that point, Arya hooked her fingers under the waist and tugged them down, shimmied her hips, and let them fall to the ground before she nimbly stepped out of them. For a moment, Gendry forgot all about the cold.

"Come on."

Arya flashed that same devious smile before she turned and waded into the pool, sinking down on her haunches until the water came up to her chin.

"Well come on, Gendry."

_She's naked, you idiot. Go on._

Dumbly, Gendry pulled his sweatshirt over his head and let it fall to the ground, already regretting his decision. The wind was unforgiving against his bare skin as he continued to strip until he was standing before Arya's prying grey eyes in nothing but his blue striped boxers.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

A smile tugged at the corner of Arya's lips as Gendry pulled his boxers down, and immediately jumped into the pool with the hopes that it would provide warmth. Gendry breathed a sigh of relief as the warm water rushed around his aching limbs and warmed his worn muscles. At the deepest point, the water only came to his shoulder blades. Gendry crouched down and ducked his head under the water. When he came back up and shook the water out of his hair, Arya was only a few inches away.

"What is this place?"

"The godswood. They don't have any near King's Landing?"

"I've never seen one before. What's that?"  
Gendry nodded towards the red-faced tree as he snaked his arms around Arya's waist, pulling her against his chest.

"The weirwood tree. It's what the gods use to see."

"Which one?"

"I don't know... the old gods."

Gendry tore his gaze from the tree to look down at Arya's face. She seized the opportunity and leaned up, pressing her smooth, cold lips against his own. Only a moment passed before Gendry felt her legs hook around his waist and her arms wrap around his shoulders. When Arya broke free from the kiss, Gendry looked back up at the tree.

"So... Your gods... They can see us right now?"

Arya's brows furrowed and she brought a hand up to push Gendry's hair out of his eyes.

"I guess."

When Gendry made no response, she kissed him again, pressing her chest against his own. Gendry turned his head slightly, breaking the contact. His blue eyes flitted up towards the tree.

"Arya, your_ gods_ are watching."

"Then let's give them a show."

Arya didn't give Gendry a choice in the matter (not that he minded) from then on. She crushed her lips against his, commanding his full attention. Her hips bucked against his stomach and a low throaty moan was partway lost in the kiss. Her legs loosened their hold on his waist enough for Arya to run her hand down Gendry's chest and take him into her hand firmly.

"Gods, Arya."

"Shut up, you stupid."

Gendry kissed Arya again as her hand worked impossibly fast, sending a shiver down Gendry's spine. He broke the kiss and moved his lips to her neck, biting lightly against the smooth skin there. Just as his release was nearing, Arya pulled her hand away and threw Gendry an infuriatingly smug smile. She moved back through the water, until her back was resting against the bank of the spring. Numbly, Gendry found himself following her, pressing himself up against her body.

"Do you want me to do this, Arya?"

Arya turned her steely grey eyes up at Gendry, and Gendry realized this was the second time he had asked her this very question. The first time, he knew the answer before she opened her mouth. This time, he did too. Only, Arya never opened her mouth. She took him into her hand and lined him up with her entrance, and met Gendry's icy blue eyes with her own. In the sights of gods- Arya's gods -Gendry bucked his hips and joined them in the most intimate way. A small gasp escaped Arya's blue-tinted lips, but she was too proud and stubborn to admit to being in pain. Instead she bit down on her bottom lip and furrowed her brows as Gendry withdrew, only to hitch her legs around his waist and pull him back in again. Slowly and steadily, the pain melted away from Arya's face until the noises slipping from her mouth were moans and gasps of anything but pain. They found their release within seconds of each other, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving with ragged breaths.

"Was that..." Gendry paused to clear his throat. "Was that ok?"

A weak laugh came forth from Arya's lips, her flushed face twisting into a smile as Gendry eased away from her sweaty skin.

"Shut up, you stupid."

"As my lady commands."

"Shut up! I mean it."

Gendry grinned as he pulled himself from the spring and pulled his clothes onto his damp body, shivering as the cold seeped through the wet fabric. Arya pulled herself out beside him and retrieved her clothes from their spot on the tree. When they were dressed, Gendry took Arya's hand and they ran back to the warmth of the castle together, with icy water dripping from their hair as they went. There was something different, Gendry noted as they slipped through the heavy wooden door to the kitchen and up the servant's stairway. A level of trust existed, at least for Gendry, that hadn't existed before. They entered Arya's room as quietly as they could, and Gendry only released his hold on Arya so she could get them towels and fresh clothes. Once they were warm and dry, Gendry realised how impossibly tired he was.

"I'm going to bed, Gendry. You don't have to sleep in the closet. Unless you want to."

Gendry rolled his eyes at Arya and went into the closet to retrieve his mobile from his bag.

"I'm just going to call Mya, she should be at the apartment by now with the kids."

"Alright. I'll be here. But just so you know, Nymeria's territorial about her spot on the bed."

"Great. A territorial wolf."

Arya laughed softly, and Gendry waited to see that she was safely curled up in bed before he closed the closet door and dialed Mya's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, everything ok? You at the apartment?"

"Gen, d'you have any idea what time it is? Everything's fine. Go to bed."

The line went dead then, and Gendry pulled the phone away from his ear, staring blankly at the illuminated screen. When the screen went dark, Gendry tossed the phone onto his bag and flexed his fingers idly. The cold was making his joints stiff. His mind drifted to his station in the back of Mrs. M's shop, and the iron frame he had been working on when he left. It was small, but that only made it harder to work. It was a birthday present, for Bella. It would be a mirror, eventually. He broke the last one. With a sigh, Gendry hauled himself to his feet and went back out into Arya's room. After checking that the door was locked, Gendry crawled into the bed, with Nymeria separating him from Arya. Sleep came easily to Gendry, and for once, pleasant dreams filled his head.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know this is ridiculously short, but life is really kicking my arse lately. Better than nothing... right? Sorry again, and thank you a million times over to everyone who's followed, favourited, and/or reviewed this. You're all the best.**

"_You_? Doing _ballet_?"

Arya tugged self consciously at the thin black fabric of the leotard that had been laid out for her. Her legs itched from the nude pink tights covering them, and the scoop neck of the leotard kept falling down to reveal the aqua blue material of her sports bra.

"Shut up, Gendry."

Gendry only laughed, walking around as if to inspect her.

"You'd better shut up, I mean it. Sansa will be here any minute to walk down with me. She'll hear you, and then you'll be really sorry."

Arya shoved Gendry out of her way and crossed the room to her dresser, where she plucked a sports-grip black headband from the mess resting on the light wood. She pulled the headband over her head and tugged it into place to keep her unruly hair out of her eyes. When she turned back to face Gendry, his lips were pursed thoughtfully.

"Well, at least your legs look nice."

With a snarl, Arya reached back and blindly threw a bottle of lotion at his head. He easily dodged it, laughing, and the bottle bounced harmlessly off the bed. Gendry's hair was tousled from sleep, and the taut muscles in his chest rippled under his bare skin. The waistband of his plaid pyjama bottoms were slung loosely around his hips, displaying the lines of his pelvis, and the thin line of dark hair running from his belly button downward until it disappeared under his pyjamas. For a moment, Arya was lost in the planes of his chest. And then, Gendry flopped back against the bed, still laughing.

"Shut up, you stupid. I ought to-"

A sharp knock came at the door then, followed almost immediately by the metallic sound of the doorknob turning. Sansa's voice was already filling the room, and Arya only had time to meet Gendry's panicked eyes with her own before the door flew open.

"I hope you're dece-... _Oh_."

Arya took a deep breath and a moment to assess the situation. There was Sansa, auburn hair tied prettily into a bun, dressed in a black leotard, black skirt, pink crossover, pink tights, and pink legwarmers. She also had a black sports bag over her left shoulder. There was Gendry, sitting in a pile of blankets on Arya's bed, hair tousled, shirt missing, and a guilty expression on his face.

"Alright, wait, I know what this-"

Sansa kicked the door shut behind her and went over to Arya, looping her arm through hers.

"Come along, we can't be late."

Arya barely had time to throw Gendry a confused shrug before she was pulled from the room by Sansa. When the door shut behind them, Sansa lead Arya down a back stairwell. Her Tully blue eyes scanned the area to ensure it was empty before she cleared her throat.

"You didn't tell me he was so..."

"So what? Obnoxious?"

"Handsome."

Arya scoffed and turned her face to hide the pesky blush rising to her cheeks.

"Does Robb know he's here?"

"No... No one does. Except for you, now."

"Arya..."

"Please, save the lecture. I don't-... I don't think that it's safe, for him to be-"

Sansa held a hand up to silence Arya as they reached the castle doors. Two guards pulled the doors open for them, where a car was waiting just outside. Sansa inclined her chin slightly and exited the caste, paused for the chauffeur to open the car door, and ducked gracefully inside. Arya climbed in after her, lazily buckling her seat belt.

"I don't want to hear about the politics of it. If I don't hear it, I can't be held liable. Are you being safe?"

"_Sansa_."

"Don't play innocent with me, I'm not mother. I'm not going to scold you. He was half naked in your bed. You're old enough to make those... choices on your own, but you do still have to think of the family name. Imagine if you were to conceive"

"Shut up, Sansa."

Arya kept her eyes trained out the dark tinted window of the car, trying desperately to hide the blush covering her whole face, right up to the tips of her ears. Sansa sighed at her side, and for a moment she was quiet.

"Well is he a good kisser, at least?"

Despite herself, a laugh bubbled up past Arya's lips as she turned to face Sansa. A smile spread across her sister's face, and she took Arya's hands into her own. Arya considered pulling her hands away and making a snide remark, but something made her bite her tongue. She supposed she could spare one sisterly moment.

"Well, I dunno... I've only ever kissed him."

"You can still tell. Do you _like_ kissing him?"

Arya bit her lip and smiled a little, mind drifting back to the godswood. Absently, she brought a hand up to her mouth, fingertips ghosting over her lips.

"I-... Yeah, I guess."

Sansa laughed softly and leaned slightly closer to Arya, a look on her face as wicked as Sansa was capable of.

"Details."

"I dunno, he... He always smells nice. Even when he's all sweaty. His hands are sort of rough and calloused, but he's always really gentle. Except when he's trying to punch me."

Alarm crossed Sansa's face for a moment, before Arya snorted. Sansa let Arya's hands go and rolled her eyes.

"I still can't understand how you have a boyfriend and I don't."

"Because I'm happy with just... Gendry. You want Prince Charming to come sweep you off your feet... Hey, if you didn't mind the age difference I'm sure you could have hit it off with Ser Jaime."

"Arya!"

Sansa giggled and blushed prettily, nudging Arya gently in the ribs.

"What? He is quite handsome. Don't pretend you didn't notice. And there's Loras Tyrell, I guess... But I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"Well why not? At least he's my own age..."

"Mm, you might have to fight Renly to get to him."

"_Arya!_ You are positively wicked this morning, aren't you. You're lucky we're alone. You shouldn't talk like that."

Arya shrugged lazily and enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence. When the car came to a stop, Arya pushed the car door open before the chauffeur could even shut the car off, and tumbled out. Absently, she tugged at her leotard and went through the door of the dance studio. A wave of hair spray and sweat hit Arya as she crossed the threshold. A woman swept into the room just as Sansa came through the door behind Arya. The woman's grey-streaked brown hair was secured tightly into a bun. She wore a simple black knee length dress, stockings, and black kitten heels.

"Good morning, girls. Go in and stretch. Sansa, I expect you will not allow your sisters presence to distract you from your training."

"No, Miss Timmeon."

The woman inclined her head slightly and Sansa moved around Arya to go through a wooden door. They passed through a room resembling a doctor's waiting room before they descended a set of steps and emerged in a wide, open room. The floors were smooth wood, and one of the walls was comprised entirely of mirrors. The rest were painted a delicate pink, with a wooden barre secure to the wall opposite the mirror. Sansa dropped her bag against the wall and sat down in front of it, removing her shoes and unzipping the bag.

"Here, I have ballet shoes for you."

Sansa tossed a pair of pink leather shoes at her as Arya slid down into her center split, ignoring the cracking and groaning of her sore hips. Arya pressed her torso flat against the floor in her split, folding her arms under her chin so she could watch Sansa prepare. Sansa glanced disdainfully over her shoulder at Arya as she pulled her own ballet flats on and pressed her legs into a butterfly stretch.

"You're so lucky. Some of us aren't born flexible as a rope."

"Excuse me. I'm a gymnast, you know. This didn't happen overnight."

Sansa scoffed and shifted into a hamstring stretch. She quietly stretched both legs before she stood.

"What are you doing?"

"Warming my feet up. Releves. I guess you would call them toe rises."

Sansa rose up onto her toes, her feet curving gracefully over her toes in a manner that looked most unnatural. She repeated that thirty times before she sat back down and peeled her ballet flats off. She procured a pair of pink satin shoes from her bag, with the end of the one shoe tucked into the toe of the other. She pulled them apart, unraveled the pink ribbons, and set them on the floor in front of her.

"What are you doing now?"

Sansa pulled two hollow half-circles of what looked like wool from her bag and slid them over her toes.

"These are pointe shoes. I'm putting my toe pads on now. Then you put your tights over your toe pads. Put your shoes on. Pull the drawstrings tight. And tie the ribbons."

Arya watched as Sansa worked, nimble fingers flying over the strings and ribbons, until they were tied snugly around her ankles.

"Aren't they supposed to go up your legs?"

Sansa just barely hid the look of disgust that threatened to pinch her pretty face.

"Not unless you want to break your ankles. Are you going to do any other stretches?"

"I'm comfy."

Sansa rolled her eyes and stretched in silence. When the woman came back into the room, she eyed Arya warily.

"Alright, up. Junk off. Sansa, to the centre. Arya, thirty releves in each position, at the barre. The correct way."

"Is there a wrong way...?"

Sansa shot Arya a mortified look as she stripped off her crossover and legwarmers, and moved into the centre of the room. Arya shrugged and pulled through her split to lie flat on her stomach. She stayed there only a moment before she sat up and pulled the ballet shoes onto her feet. She got up and went to the barre then, ignoring the death stare she was receiving from the ballet instructor. Absently, she began her exercises.

"No. Stop. Sansa, gande jettes. Arya..."

The woman crossed the room to stand beside Arya.

"Again. No, no. For the love of all the gods, no. Rise all the way up. Keep all five toes on the ground. Don't let your ankles buckle. _Higher_. Don't sickle your feet. Your ankles are buckling. Hold your stomach tight. Back straight. Don't stick your bottom out. Knees straight. No. Slower, really feel your way through. No death grip on the barre, please. Support your body. Turn your legs out."

And so the next two hours went, with Sansa moving effortlessly and gracefully, and Arya struggling to grasp even the most basic of moves. Her muscles were burning, and sweat was dripping down her back, but still the ballet instructor would not let up. The majority of the time, she was yelling at Arya for not supporting something or other. By the time she dismissed them, Arya could barely walk, and she was certain that she absolutely hated ballet. Sansa was obnoxiously smug as they changed their shoes and got into the car. She was too prim and proper to say 'I told you so', but Arya could see the statement on her lips. The ride was spent in silence, both of them too sore and exhausted to talk. When they returned to the castle, Arya headed straight up to her room.

Gendry had fallen back asleep, so when Arya pulled her door open she was greeted by the sound of his gentle snored. The curtains were pulled shut and the lights were off, so it took Arya a moment to adjust to the lighting. She shut her door behind her and stumbled across the room to her bathroom. She flicked the light on, kicked the door shut, and peeled the damp leotard off her slick skin. The tights came off next, then her undergarments. Quick as she could, Arya turned the shower on, pulled her headband off, and stepped inside. The warm water ran over her skin and washed the sweat off, and Arya finally allowed herself a sigh of relief. Soon the pleasant smell of soap and shampoo filled the room, replacing the scent of sweat. As Arya shut her eyes to rinse the shampoo out of her hair, the bathroom door opened.

"Not now, Sansa. Too tired."

The shower door slid open then, making Arya frown as she ran her fingers through her hair to rinse the foamy shampoo from it. Big, rough hands found their way to her hips, and kisses were peppered along her collar bone.

"Not Sansa. How was ballet?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

Arya opened her eyes to watch a small smile tug at Gendry's lips.

"Are you sore?"

"Mm."

"Want me to rub your back?"

"Mmhm."

Gendry chuckled as he picked Arya up easily, and switched their places so the water was beating down on Gendry's back, and Arya's back was to Gendry. Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders and set to work. He trailed kisses down her spine as he worked, sending a shiver through Arya's body despite the warm steam filling the room. He kissed back up her back before he turned her around to face him. Arya didn't need any prompting to stand up on her toes and press her lips against his. Arya let out a squeal as Gendry scooped her up in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and pressed her lips back against his to kill the laughter starting to form there. Gendry broke the kiss after only a moment, to turn his attention to her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. Arya might never have left that shower if it weren't for the sudden banging at her bedroom door.

"Damn."

Gendry sighed and let Arya slide down his body. Resigned, he poured shampoo into his hand and started scrubbing his hair.

"Go on."

Arya gave him an apologetic smile before she stepped out of the shower and dried her body and hair off briefly. She wrapped her white terry cloth robe around her body and secured it in place. She exited the bathroom and ran to the door, where the person on the other side was shouting something. Arya threw the door open to come face to face with Robb.

"What are you-"

"That boy. Is he here?"

"Robb, calm down, what are you doing here? What's wrong?"

"Arya, is he here?"

"I-"

Robb grimaced and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"This is not a game, Arya. Is he here."

"Why do you need to know?"

Robb hesitated only a moment before he took a breath and opened his mouth to speak.

"Robert Baratheon is dead."


End file.
